beyond witches and slippers and hoods (it takes two)
by herecomesthepun
Summary: in which Annabeth is very oblivious, Into The Woods kind of sucks and there are lots of pancakes. Percabeth AU. One-shot. For Helena!


**A/N:** hello everyone!

firstly i want to say - HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY HELENAAAA

this is your birthday present! and i know that your birthday was like a week and a half ago but apparently time management is not a skill i possess so here it is a wee bit late sorryyy

anyway! helenaaaa *strums guitar* HAPPY BIRTHDAY! you are an utter wonder to be friends with and I love you so so much! your theatre story for me was I think one of my most favourite things ever and I literally read it once a day it's just such a funny creative story and I am so blessed to know you and also have you write stuff for me like that! you are such a gem and I'm also half-convinced we're like psychic because of that crazy fic coincidence and you also introduced me to b99? which has become literally my favourite show ever? so thank you so much you are an angel and I hope you like this xxx

this fic was inspired by our Great Fic Coincidence of 2018 in which we almost accidentally wrote the same fic so i decided "you know what for your birthday i'll write you a theatre au too but with into the woods seeing as that's a show we've both done" so voila! here it is!

love u bae i hope you have a wonderful 16th year of life xxxxx

title is from it takes two from into the woods because, like, why not, right. also it's accurate because I once did a Sondheim play and it doesn't take two it takes twelve and also probably lots of alcohol

* * *

 **beyond witches and slippers and hoods (it takes two)**

* * *

Annabeth should have never volunteered to help run the school musical, honestly.

It had seemed like a good idea at the beginning. Mr Brunner is her favourite teacher and also it would look pretty damn good on her CV, so she'd thought oh, why not. Besides, it shouldn't be too hard. She likes being in charge and yelling at people, and her debate teacher told her she's very good at getting the job done.

What's the worst that can happen, right?

"Now, I'm not saying it was me," Leo Valdez says, "but there's a possibility that someone may have started a small fire in the costume room."

It's _literally_ eight in the morning.

Annabeth says as much, and Leo pulls a face. "It was an accident."

"How do you accidentally set a fire in the costume room?"

"Thalia was smoking a joint. I was just doing a favour to all the small, impressionable freshmen who were in there with her."

"Thalia?"

"You didn't hear it from me."

Well, that's their Witch down.

Annabeth massages her temples. "Is anything damaged?"

"My dignity."

She shoots him an evil look.

"I mean—no. Nothing is damaged."

From across the hall, something smashes. Someone shouts, "Everything's okay!" and then something else breaks.

"I want to commit murder," Annabeth says. "I am _at that point_."

"Do you want a coffee?"

"What I want is a successful show, and also everyone's head _in_ _jars_."

"I'll get you a coffee."

He takes off. Annabeth sighs and stares down at her clipboard, and considers the pros and cons of braining herself with it.

She's sure by the end of it it'll all be rewarding. She's helped with a few concerts around school – she's kind of a swot, okay, whatever – and yeah, they're frustrating, but the final product is always lovely to watch, especially when it goes well. Because she gets to sit in the front row in between Mr Brunner's wheelchair and Apollo the hipster music teacher and beam because she helped with that, she _did_ that.

But none of those concerts even _compare_ to how much of a nightmare Into The Woods is turning out to be. Especially since Mr Brunner doesn't come in on Saturdays and everyone is already high off the idea of the weekend and for goodness sake Annabeth has Calculus homework she really can't be manhandling a bunch of _babies_. Especially not babies who smoke joints in the costume room and set fire to things!

"You all right, Chase?" a voice says, and Annabeth turns to see Piper gliding in front of her on a spinny chair. "You're looking particularly murderous today."

"That's because I am," Annabeth grouches. "No one is listening to me."

"Shame," Piper says, taking a sip of her tea. She has her legs crossed in the chair. She looks very zen. Annabeth envies her. "Kids these days. No respect."

"I just don't understand how Mr Brunner hasn't quit yet." Annabeth stares mournfully down at her clipboard. "How does he control them?"

"Everyone likes Mr Brunner."

Annabeth scowls tiredly at her.

Piper's smirk melts into a concerned smile and she wheels the chair forward. "Seriously, Beth, are you all right?"

"Just stressed. This show is going to drain the life out of me."

"You're Annabeth Chase. You'll make it brilliant."

"But it's Sondheim, Piper. _Sondheim_. How the hell are we meant to be teaching Sondheim to a bunch of immature high schoolers?"

"I don't understand your problem," Piper says.

There's another crash somewhere, and this time, "I think I broke the cow costume."

Piper says, "Ah."

"Maybe I could threaten them into behaving," Annabeth says. "Reign of fear, and all that jazz."

"You mean become Hitler."

"I mean you turning a blind eye when I whomp Thalia in the face."

"I think you'll be the one with a blind eye if you try that, babe."

Annabeth sighs. "I should have never signed up for this."

"Cheer up. Rehearsal has only just begun."

"Joy." Saturday rehearsals are both a blessing and a curse – a blessing, because that's about six uninterrupted hours of work, and when it takes about an hour to get everyone to shut up you need the time. But it's also a curse because none of the ensemble want to come in on Saturdays and this is the only time Annabeth has the time to choreograph the group numbers and if they aren't there it makes life very difficult.

Also because all of her principals are assholes who do things like smoke weed in the costume room.

"We need to take roll," Annabeth says. She picks up her megaphone from where she has it strapped to her jeans and shouts, "All right, creeps, gather around!"

"Have you ever considered," Piper says, when she puts it down, "that perhaps calling them 'creeps' isn't the best way into earning their respect?"

"Three things have been broken so far," Annabeth says, "including the cow costume, which cost forty dollars of our budget, and we're only about twenty minutes in. I will call them literally whatever I please."

Everyone slowly ambles into a semi-circle around them, sitting down on the floor and blinking up at her. Thank goodness, there seems to a bigger turnout of the ensemble group than normal, which means she can start getting these dance numbers down, but she can only see one of her principals, and that's Thalia, who's also as high as a kite. She wants to throw something.

Instead, she glances down at her clipboard. "Has anyone seen any of the mains?"

"Jason's somewhere," Thalia says.

"Thank you, Thalia, that's very specific."

Thalia salutes her.

"They should be here," Piper says. "On the groupchat they all said they were coming."

Annabeth grumbles mutinously. "They'd better." She reads out the rest of the cast, feeling her soul die with every name that doesn't get answered ("Where's Gwen?" "She quit because she hates you" "thank you, Thalia"), and then turns to face the rest of the cast when she's finished.

"All right," she says. "Game plan for today – completely finish the opening. If you don't know the words then that's your problem and you need to by the end of today, because I'm not having you half-ass this."

Piper makes a pinched face. "And you wonder why they hate you," she says to her.

"They don't hate me."

"Yes, they do," says Thalia.

Annabeth ignores this. "Anyway," she says. "The opening is something we're definitely getting finished by the end of this. I want to see if we can run the first half of the show, and then we'll start staging the second half, okay? I wanted to try and teach Your Fault, but seeing as no one's _here_ , we won't be able to do that." She pauses for a few moments to wallow in her sadness, silently hoping that someone will burst through the doors and prove her hideously wrong, but no one does, so she just clears her throat. "Let's start with the prologue. I'll fill in everyone else's lines."

As everyone clambers to their feet to scurry away to their positions, Thalia remains where she's seated on the floor. "I don't know my rap," she says. "Just an FYI."

"Are you sure I can't smack her?" Annabeth says to Piper.

"Do you have your script?" Piper asks.

Thalia says, "I have eight cans of Monster in my bag."

Annabeth wants to swallow her whole. "Do you think you can at least just walk it through for me?"

"Nope."

"For God's sake," Piper mutters, rubbing her temples. Unfolding herself from her chair, she hands Annabeth her tea and cracks her knuckles. "I'll do the Witch's part. Get Thalia some water. And maybe a Valium."

Thalia gives her a thumbs-up.

"But you're Cinderella," Annabeth says. "You can't be the Witch as well."

"Watch me," Piper says, and she struts away.

They stare after her as she disappears into the wings. Thalia says, "She's cool."

"I know."

"You could be cool too if you loosened up."

Annabeth walks away. She does not need to be lectured by Thalia Grace.

•

In general, the future of the musical doesn't look horrid.

(Dismal, maybe.)

Annabeth and Percy had managed to snag themselves quite a capable cast. They were able to grab Hazel Levesque as the baker's wife and Thalia Grace the resident stoner as the Witch, as well as a handful of other kids from the football team, cheerleading squad and the many, many choirs across the school to be in the play, and then, because Annabeth knows how to win a crowd, some of her friends, too.

( **Annabeth** : Jason Grace is playing Cinderella's prince charming

 **Piper** : I'm in)

It's just—she may have made a few casting errors. Just a few.

And by a few she means one. And by one she means Octavian Spencer.

"Annabeth," Octavian calls from the stage. "Can I change a line?"

"To what?"

"In the prologue he says, _I want a child_ , but I think it would be more fitting to say, _I love my wife so much that I want to bed her every night and consequently children may follow_. Do you think that would work?"

Hazel makes a winded noise.

"Uh," Annabeth says. "Unfortunately, Octavian, as that line is part of a song, we can't, because it's just too many syllables. I'm so sorry."

"That's quite all right," Octavian say. He flicks a few pages ahead in his script. "I've got many other lines that I think could use some creative altering."

"I want to put Octavian in a washing machine," she says later, furiously. "He thinks that because he has eight hand-written pages on what kind of person the baker is that he has a right to start meddling around with the script. Like, uh, no, Octavian, I'm sorry, but he says, these are magic beans for a reason, and that reason is because the beans are magic, not because he wants to impregnate his wife." She angrily throws a teaspoon of sugar into her coffee. "If he dropped dead right in the middle of a scene I would not complain."

"Do we need to talk about meditation techniques again?" Piper says. "Because my playlist of soothing ocean noises has increased dramatically over the past week."

Annabeth sighs. "No, it's fine. I just—Octavian is driving me up the wall."

"I still don't know why you cast him," Piper says. "Honestly, you were kind of asking for it the second you put him as a main character in a Sondheim musical. Like, what part of that is smart?"

At that moment, the door to the staffroom swings open. They both glance over to see Percy breeze in, a doughnut hanging out of his mouth and his script tucked under his arm. When he catches sight of them he removes the doughnut and beams. "Hello, ladies!" he says. "What are we talking about?"

Annabeth heaves a sigh of relief. "You're here, thank _God_."

"We were discussing the stroke Annabeth had when she thought casting Octavian as the baker was a smart idea," Piper says.

"Oh, I love talking about this." Percy plops down on the sofa next to them. "What part are we discussing? I have a lot of thoughts."

"You're forty minutes late," Annabeth says.

"Yeah, but I'm here now, aren't I? Come on, what did he say this time?"

"I'll give you three guesses," Piper says.

"The passionate sex he has with his wife every night?"

"Ding, ding, ding."

"Why are you so late?" Annabeth asks.

"Traffic."

"That's a lie," Leo says, from where he's stood by the coffee machine. Annabeth jumps. She'd almost forgotten he was there – although she supposes she can't be really that surprised, Leo's body mass is about seventy percent caffeine, it would be more surprising if he weren't somewhere that produced coffee. "Roads were empty this morning."

Percy glares at him. "Thanks, Valdez."

Annabeth wrinkles her nose. "It wasn't because you were making out with Drew, was it?"

"God, please not," Piper says. "She'll be even more insufferable than normal."

"I was just running some errands," Percy says. "It's not that important."

Annabeth doesn't believe him for a second, but she leaves it simply because Octavian has already drained her enough that she doesn't need to be having an argument with her best friend in the morning on top of it. "Whatever," she says. "It's not like you missed much, anyway."

"Just Octavian driving everyone utterly mad," Piper says. "Same old, same old."

"Unfortunately," Annabeth mutters.

Percy makes a vaguely sympathetic noise and throws his around her shoulders. She buries her head in his arm and lets out a long, pained noise.

"Why, though?" Percy says. "I've been meaning to ask you about that for a while, actually. Like, why _did_ you cast him? It's not like Octavian being a pain in the ass is anything new."

"I don't _know_ ," Annabeth complains into his shoulder. He smells quite nice. She wants to take a nap and forget about everything. "We only have a certain amount of good male singers in this school, and all the ones that weren't Octavian had such distinctive voices that I had to put them in the other roles. Like, Jason is perfect for the prince, and Leo totally fits Jack. But then I didn't know who was going to play the baker, because everyone else was not that great, and Octavian was the first kid who rocked up that could hold a tune and memorise some lines."

"And what a shame that was."

Annabeth sighs. "This play would be perfect if only Octavian dropped off the face of the earth. Like, yeah, okay, he can sing, sure, but he also wants to change every line to make sure the audience knows he loves and has frequent sex with his wife."

"Well, at least you have me," Percy says, squeezing her shoulder. Annabeth shuffles so she's looking up at him, he smiles down at her. "I can guarantee that will make things eight hundred times easier."

"Yeah, right," she grumbles. "You want to change just as many lines as he does."

"Yeah, but for good reason. I'm the comedic genius of the duo."

"Untrue. During Bugsy Malone last year it was _my_ stage directions that got the most laughs."

"Yeah, but the undisputed best moment of the entire thing was the pie fight at the end and how Dandy Dan kept sneaking pieces of it into his mouth during You Give A Little Love, and who's idea was that?"

"Good God," Piper says in amazement, and they both start and look at her. Annabeth had almost forgotten she was there. "Since when did you two get so domestic?"

"We got married last summer," Percy says. "That may be it."

Annabeth holds up her left hand and wiggles her ring finger. "Isn't it just _gaw-juss_?" she says, in a thick New York accent.

Piper stares at them for a few more moments, before she just shakes her head. "Crikey," she mutters, and then sits back in her seat, taking another sip of her tea. "Well, continue whatever crap you were arguing about."

"No, we can't," Annabeth says. "We need to talk about what we're going to do with Octavian."

"Well, you already know my opinion," Percy says. "I say we either fire him, or secretly teach the role to another student and on the night before the performance we sneak laxatives into his dinner so he's sick all of the next day and can't make the show."

"Genius," Piper declares.

"We can't fire him," Annabeth says. She gently snaps the waistband of Percy's jeans. "Or poison him, for that matter."

Percy shrugs, jostling her a little. "It's a good idea."

"If we can't get rid of him, I don't know what you want us to say," Piper says. "You either deal, or throw him out."

"I know." Annabeth sighs a little. "It's just—if I hear him say one more thing about changing a line I will either shoot him or myself. I swear on it."

"Oh, don't do that," Percy says. "You need to wait until we actually do get married, so I can deliver a sad eulogy at your funeral."

"What the hell," Piper says.

"Besides," Percy adds, "I'm sure he can't be that bad."

Annabeth points at him so aggressively her finger nearly goes up his nose. "That's because you're doing the Jack and Little Red scenes, and _I'm_ doing the baker and his wife. Because believe me you when I say I can one hundred percent assure you three minutes with the man will also have you contemplating suicide."

"It is kind of true," Piper says. She takes another sip of his tea. "We were learning Your Fault and Octavian kept trying to sing about how sexually deprived he is now that his wife is dead. I wanted to burn him right there where we stood."

"I'm still up for poisoning him," Percy says.

"No." Annabeth sighs, and sits up. "We'll just have to get through this." She checks her phone, and then groans. "God, I've got to get back, anyway. I left them all behind so they could go over Ever After but Thalia just texted me and it's gone as well as you're imagining, which is horrifically, so I need to go salvage it."

"I'll come with you," Percy says. When Annabeth gives him a surprised look, he says, "I mean, I've got get some Octavian exposure eventually, don't I? Besides, I have a much better handle on my emotions than you. Out of both of us I'm least likely to explode."

Annabeth is—kind of touched. "Thank you, Percy."

Piper throws up her hands. "How many times have I offered to help with Octavian?"

"You offer to punch him."

"Exactly," Piper says. "Way better than whatever inner peace crap Percy has going on."

Annabeth rolls her eyes. "You can both come. I need as much help as I can get with this kid." She stands up. "Come on, let's go."

Percy slings an arm around her shoulders as they walk through the door. "I have some doughnuts," he says. "Downstairs, in my bag."

"You're a godsend."

Percy beams at her, and behind them Annabeth hears Piper grumble mutinously and sip her tea.

Now. Percy.

Percy, Percy, Percy. Where does she start with him?

Percy Jackson is the single most irritating person in the world and also her partner-in-crime when it comes to the performing arts. They had both attended the same middle school and never spoke, mainly because Annabeth was still in her I'm-too-good-for-you stage and Percy was the kind of kid who jammed carrot sticks up his nose and then cried when he couldn't get them out, and then in high school a flip just—switched.

Because they discovered they both had something in common.

("Directorship," Annabeth says, at the same time as Percy says, "Bossiness.")

Mr Brunner was a lovely old teacher who recognised their passion, saw that Annabeth would run herself into the ground to perfect something and that Percy was deceptively brilliant, and had initially put them both in charge of the Drama club. And then, when that went pretty damn swell, he realised they were actually a lot better than he thought, and set them up help him direct the school play.

It's proven to be the biggest challenge to date, and that includes the time Annabeth was in charge of organising the school fundraiser in which she had to try and convince dozens of parents that listening to forty minutes of mediocre oboe-players butcher their favourite classics was worth the fifteen dollars it cost, because as soon as she, Percy and Piper walk back into the auditorium they are hit by a wall of noise that can only mean someone has found the microphones, switched them on and started wailing Adele into them.

"Is it too late to retire now," Annabeth says.

"You can't peak at seventeen, Bethie," Piper says, sipping her tea matter-of-factly. "That would be depressing."

"I don't think you can get any more depressing than this."

All three of them watch as some kid tries to do a cartwheel on the stage and accidentally careers into the orchestra pit.

"Touché," Piper says.

They all split to try and calm everyone down. Annabeth's hands instinctively go to the waistband of her jeans, where she normally keeps her megaphone on a strap, but she must have taken it off before she sought cover in the staffroom, and internally swears. Literally, this play could not get any harder. That megaphone is the only way anyone actually hears her.

She's going to be grey by the time this ends, she swears. Firstly, no one listens to her, not even with the megaphone. Secondly, her cast do dumb things like smoke joints in the costume room, and thirdly—

"You look a little stressed, Bethie," Drew Tanaka says, coming up behind her. "Is it all getting a bit too much for you?"

Well. Thirdly, Drew Tanaka.

"No," Annabeth says. "I just want to get this rehearsal started." And then, because she just can't help herself, she says, "Before Percy came in – did you see him at all?"

Drew smiles salaciously. She fits the role of the Evil Stepsister so well, honestly. And she's not even Evil Stepsister 1. She's Evil Stepsister 2, because yes Annabeth is that petty. "I might've."

She's so obviously playing her, but Annabeth literally no longer cares. "Where?"

"Out in the carpark." Drew pulls out a tube of lip gloss and retouches her bottom lip. "We got a little... _sidetracked_."

"That's nice."

"You ever kissed him before, Chase? Or are you still cowering in your granny-panties? Because I will say." She recaps her lip gloss and smirks. "That boy is talented, and I don't just mean onstage."

"As fascinated as I am by what you and Percy get up to in super sexy places like the school parking lot, I do distinctly remember you completely messing up during the opener last rehearsal, so I'd understand if you'd want to go away and practice your four lines so you don't ruin the take again."

Drew smiles at her. "Jealousy isn't a good look on you."

"Walk away, Drew."

She laughs once, sharp and twinkly, like shards of glass, and sashays away.

Oh, yeah.

And lastly: Percy, Annabeth's co-director and best friend? Is completely in love with Drew.

(As if Into The Woods actually needed to be any harder than it already was.)

•

Drew and Percy met about when they were about fifteen.

It was at the point in Percy and Annabeth's relationship where they had been doing the co-director gig for a couple of months and were actually beginning to stand each other. Because of this, and also because of the fact that neither of them had any other friends, Annabeth distinctly remembers the moment that Percy and Drew first set sights on each other.

Drew was one of those girls who hit puberty early, instead of having it straggle along with her throughout middle and rocking up as a ninth-grader with acne, a disproportionate body and gap teeth. (Yes, Annabeth was one of those girls.) She had transferred from out of state and in a sea of awkward adolescents who were still getting used to themselves Annabeth remembers leaning against Percy's locker and then watching as suddenly this _girl_ just floated through the corridor in her white trainers and crop top, and then glancing at Percy and seeing him completely dumbstruck.

"Who was that?" he whispered, once the girl had passed.

"I don't know," Annabeth said. "I think she's new."

"She's hot," Percy said dreamily, and Annabeth shut her locker on his fingers.

It only kind of got worse from there. When they were sixteen, Percy had his first kiss with Drew behind the bike shed, and Annabeth knows this because straight after he had found her cross-legged on the stage painting a stage block and burst out, "Annabeth, I did it, I kissed her", and then when they were seventeen it happened again, and again, and then just didn't—stop happening.

As far as Annabeth's concerned, they're not dating. It's a whole friends-with-benefits thing, which is general is just a terrible idea, but each to their own, she supposes. It would be kind of bearable if DrewandPercy was kept far away from AnnabethandPercy, but Drew also does musical theatre, and every time she's even remotely around Annabeth's general vicinity she just makes all these comments and Annabeth wants to _smack_ her.

(Her singing voice isn't great, though, and she hasn't got much rhythm either, so. Just saying.)

Thing is, it's not like Annabeth's feelings towards Drew are strictly jealousy-fuelled, although that is admittedly ninety percent of the reason. Firstly, Drew is not a very nice person in the slightest, and even if Annabeth wasn't irritated that she kept stealing quality BFF time she would still get bothered by the stuff she says. Even Hazel doesn't really like her.

("Is that so," Annabeth says, trying not to look hideously gleeful.

"Yes," Hazel says. "I do think she's pretty and she has a very admirable fashion sense but she's not got a very nice personality. Also I think poor Percy would be quite mortified if he found out what she's been saying about him. She's a bit Tim."

Annabeth had frowned. "Tim?"

"Gives out lots of information."

"TMI, Hazel.")

Secondly, she _hates_ Annabeth.

Not that Annabeth really the space to argue, since, you know, the feeling's mutual, but what she doesn't understand is _why_. Annabeth hates Drew because Drew is an awful person with really nice hair and great bone structure, and, yeah, okay, Annabeth's not exactly Snow White, either, but she hasn't really done anything to her.

Privately, Annabeth had hoped that Percy doing Into The Woods with her would mean that he would spend less time with Drew and more time with her. They may not be dating but their lips spend so much time suckered together that they're with each other as much as they would be if they actually were, and Annabeth misses him – he's her best friend, for goodness sake, she wants to be able to hang out with him – but then during auditions, Drew had swished into the room with a too-bright smile and did a slightly boring rendition of Thank You For The Music, and Annabeth just knew she was screwed.

How can she possibly compete with someone like Drew?

(In terms of sexual experience and looks, she means. In all things theatrical Annabeth is quite significantly better.)

It's all fine. She's kind of come to terms that she's going to have spend the rest of her high school with her best friend constantly at Drew's beck and call and constantly forgoing Best Friend Nights because, "Sorry, Beth, Drew's parents are out for the weekend, you know how it is" even though Annabeth absolutely does not know how it is because what _exactly_ is so great about Drew's vagina that he'd sacrifice Moulin Rouge for it – and besides, as much as Drew tried to sabotage Annabeth's plan for finally achieving some long-overdue friend dates with the whole Into The Woods shebang, it's kind of backfired, considering Stepsister 2 isn't needed much and the director is, so overall Annabeth considers it a success.

It's actually even better than she expected, because Percy doesn't mess around as director. He's harsh on Drew, and Annabeth secretly loves it because take _that_ Drew you thought you could steal my best friend.

Anyway, now that Percy's arrived, rehearsal goes much more smoothly. Annabeth only has to use the megaphone a handful of times, because Percy has some weird voodoo magic that means everyone listens and respects him, and an hour later they've walked through a good portion of the second act and have begun to properly choreograph all of the numbers.

They're a good team, Percy and Annabeth. Annabeth's always known, of course, because they've been working together for almost three years now, but it always makes her inexplicably happy to see how well they work. They're like a well-oiled machine.

Mr Brunner is gonna be so proud of this show, honestly.

Well. Mostly.

"This isn't just me, right," Percy says to Annabeth without taking his eyes off the stage.

She purses her lips. "No," she says. "I see it too."

Onstage, Octavian takes Hazel's hand, and strokes all the way from her wrist to her armpit. Hazel stares at him, wide-eyed.

"What is he doing?" Percy hisses.

Annabeth doesn't know, and she doesn't particularly want to find out, either, but before she can speak Octavian makes a move like he's going to physically sweep Hazel off her feet and she just has to intervene.

"Cut, cut!" she calls, and the music cuts. She flaps her face with her script. "Octavian, what on earth are you _doing_?"

Octavian releases Hazel and flicks hair out of his face with one spindly, pale hand. "Well, Annabeth," he says, "I am simply in character. I am only doing what I feel the baker would do."

Percy gawks. Annabeth closes her eyes briefly. "Octavian," she says. "This—right now, you are singing about how you and your wife feel as though you have both changed for the better by adventuring into the woods, okay? That doesn't require you to _stroke_ her."

"Hear, hear," Hazel says weakly.

"No offence," Octavian says, "but I disagree."

Annabeth blinks. "Sorry?"

"You see, I've been brainstorming a lot on what character I believe the baker really is, because I take my craft seriously and I truly want to embed myself into him. I wrote a list of traits that I feel complimented him and would better my performance." He produces a piece of paper from his pocket and clears his throat. "Number one, since his real name is never revealed, I decided that a fitting name would be Tarquin Kuznetsov."

Percy and Annabeth glance at each other.

Octavian continues, oblivious. "Number seven, if he weren't a baker, his life ambition would be to become an air hostess. Number eighteen, he adores smooth jazz – and look, number forty-three, he is deeply in love with wife, and it is shown in the script that he desperately craves a child, so every night he and his wife partake in passionate copulation."

"Do you now understand what I have to deal with?" Annabeth hisses.

Percy clears his throat. "Uh, Octavian," he says. "While Annabeth and I truly—appreciate how much thought you've put into this character, can you just trust us as the directors of this show that we know best and we think that—excessively petting Hazel is not appropriate for this song?"

"Hazel doesn't mind," Octavian says.

"Yes, she does," Hazel says.

"Look, let's just go from the top," Percy says. "Octavian, just—don't stroke her, okay?"

The music starts up, and Octavian and Hazel return to their places, disgruntled and relieved, respectively. As they both start to sing, Annabeth leans close to Percy and says, "Please tell me I didn't make a mistake casting him."

"Oh, you did," Percy says amicably. "Nothing you can do about it, though."

Annabeth sighs and closes her eyes. "This show is going to be a disaster."

"No, it's not," Percy says. "It's looking really good so far, and all the songs sound great. Honestly, it's going to be amazing."

"I hope so." Annabeth catches sight of the performance. "Oh, for Heaven's sake— _Octavian, what the hell are you doing_?"

Over the music, Octavian calls, "Air hostess hands. I felt that since it's his dream he should be demonstrating his moves."

"Oh, no," Percy says. "I take it back, you made a _great_ choice."

Annabeth puts her head in her hands. This is useless.

•

Despite all the drama, the school play actually comes with dozens of awesome benefits. There's the whole 'I-get-to-miss-lessons-to-hang-out-with-Mr-Brunner-for-an-hour-and-paint-the-set' shebang, as well as the power trip you get from being given permission to boss around a bunch of underclassmen, but then there are the Ultimate Benefits that make all the stress-related hair loss so worth it.

An honourable mention is the freedom you get when the teachers are all either at home or in hiding. It sounds lame but it is one of the best things ever – some weeks Percy and Annabeth even arrive early and do Broadway karaoke until everyone arrives in the hallways because the acoustics are damn fine there. Whenever they're not needed, the cast take off their shoes and slide through the cafeteria and break into the art cupboards and play rowdy games of basketball through the halls. Saturday is the day they get to roam the school uninhibited.

Aka: _they get the staffroom._

The staffroom is literally the coolest place in school. It is deceptively massive (Annabeth has gone for years thinking it was tiny, and yet she had walked in and can now wholeheartedly say it's one of the biggest rooms in the building like what the hell) and it is _filled_ with all sorts of awesome things. There are two televisions and about eight hundred purple squishy sofas – not to even mention the super-expensive coffee machine in the corner.

Yeah, you heard right. _Coffee machine_. Annabeth salivates at even the thought of it.

And the best benefit of all?

 _Saturday rehearsal lunch breaks._

Annabeth and Percy have found a pancake diner a couple of blocks away from the school that they always visit, and it's come to be her safe haven. In fact, she's come in here so many times to escape the stress of everyday life that comes with directing a high-school Sondheim musical that she's been conditioned to go boneless at even the smell of pancakes.

Today is no exception. As soon as she walks in, she makes a beeline for their usual booth and curls up in a ball. Percy gives one of her curls a sympathetic tug, and then goes off to order.

"Nutella and banana," she says from where her face is pressed against the table.

"I know."

"You're a good friend, Percy."

"Take your head off the table, you don't know what grubby toddler has had their hands on that before you."

(That means _you, too._ )

A couple of minutes later, they both have their loaded plates in front of them, and once Annabeth has given Percy all her strawberries and Percy has scraped off his apple sauce onto her plate he picks up his fork and says, "I severely underestimated how much hard work this would be."

"Right?" She sighs. "I know this is gonna look great on college applications and stuff, but frankly, I'm regretting everything. Why did I think I could do this?"

"Well, at least you have me."

"True." Annabeth spears a piece of pancake. "Do you know where you're applying for next year?"

Percy grimaces. "God, I haven't even thought about that."

"Come on, it's so soon!"

"I know, I know. I just—I don't want high school to end quite yet."

"Well, it's not," Annabeth says. "We still have to get through this damn play, don't we?"

Percy rolls his eyes. "Yes, how could I possibly forget?" He picks up a strawberry. "What about you, then, Miss Prepared? How's that five-year plan coming along?"

Annabeth sneers at him and he laughs. "I don't have a five-year plan."

"Ten-year plan, then."

"I'm thinking MIT, or Harvard," she says. "If I can get in, that is. They're both so competitive."

"You're smart. You're bound to get in."

"Let's hope so. I'm doing about seventeen extra-curriculars as well as Math Camp every year since I was twelve _and_ this damn musical, and someone is going to die if I don't get valedictorian because I sure as hell deserve it. I have to have my CV as full as possible if I stand a chance."

"Well, the musical basically constitutes as walking through hell itself."

Annabeth snorts. "If they had any sense they'd accept me the second they saw I directed a high school production of a Stephen Sondheim musical."

"Because everyone knows you don't know true pain until you've directed a school production of Stephen Sondheim musical."

"Right?" Annabeth takes a bite of her pancakes and chews thoughtfully. "Honestly, though, I just hope I make it in. I've got a few back-ups, though."

Percy's eyes shine with amusement. "And how many is a few?"

"...Three or four."

"Or five."

"Eight, okay."

Percy gives her a look.

"Okay, so maybe it's ten, but it doesn't matter." At Percy's look, she protests, "It's good to keep your options open!"

"Whatever you say." Percy sighs. "I don't even really know what I want to do."

"You like Biology. Maybe you could do, like, aquatics. Marine biology, or something."

"Yeah, that would be cool." Almost shyly, he adds, "I think I might like to be a teacher."

Annabeth stares at him in amazement. "Really? Percy, you'd be a brilliant teacher!"

"I'm not so sure. I mean, Into The Woods has run me dry. Do you know how hard it is for me to not, like, actually explode whenever they don't listen?"

"But—you do."

"Exactly my point. I'm scared I might accidentally call my students something rude if I get frustrated with them."

Annabeth snorts. "You're better at it than I am."

"Okay, true."

She steals a slice of banana from his plate. "Seriously, though. I just don't understand how you do it."

"Do what?"

"Get them to—listen. Respect you. I'm pretty sure they all hate me."

"That's not true," Percy says. "They just thoroughly dislike you."

Annabeth scowls at him.

"Kidding, kidding."

"They like you better."

"Yes, that's because I'm nice to them."

"You shout at them."

"So do you."

Touché.

"I'm serious, Bethie. You yell at them, and call them things. I'm pretty sure half of them believe that if they look at you in the eyes they'll turn to stone. And, no offense, Beth, but you can be a little—dictator-y, sometimes."

"Dictator-y?" Annabeth repeats in horror. It's even worse than she thought. She puts her head in her hands. "Oh my God, they _do_ all hate me."

Consolingly, Percy pushes forward his plate. Annabeth stabs a slab of pancake and scrapes it in the leftover whipped cream, completely depressed.

"I can't believe this," she says sadly.

"Maybe just be a bit nicer," Percy says.

"But I can't. Some of them are all just so bad."

"Yes, but there's such thing as constructive criticism, Bethie. You're giving, like— _de_ structive criticism."

"I should probably just never speak ever again."

"Oh—Annabeth." Percy takes her hands. "You just need to be a bit nicer, that's all."

Annabeth smiles wanly. Percy smiles back, and squeezes her hands. Suddenly, there's a shift in atmosphere, like the tone has changed, and Percy takes a breath, seemingly steeling himself, and then says, "Actually, Beth, listen, I've been meaning to talk to you—"

"Hey, guys!"

They look up. It's Leo and Piper.

"Hey," Percy says, his voice kind of tight. "What are you guys doing here?"

His face looks a little pinched. Annabeth wonders why.

"Getting some food," Piper says, taking a seat in their booth. Leo quickly follows suit. "After that hellish rehearsal I need as much sugar as I can to get me to five o'clock without collapsing on the spot." She takes a seat, and then says, "Are we interrupting anything?"

Percy opens his mouth but Annabeth cuts him off. "We're talking about how awful I am," she says miserably.

Leo and Piper exchange confused looks. "Sorry?" Leo says finally.

"Ignore her," Percy says. "She's being melodramatic."

"No, I'm not," Annabeth says. "Everyone hates me."

"Oh, that's old news," Leo says, and Piper quickly elbows him. " _What_?"

"Just—go order our food."

Leo glances at her. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Just scram, Leo."

Leo scrams.

When he's gone, Piper rests her elbows on the table. "Listen, Bethie," she says. "I just think that maybe you need a better approach to controlling everyone. Don't get me wrong – I think the megaphone is a work of sheer genius. But maybe—maybe don't call the cast mean names through it. It's a little demeaning. That's definitely step one in getting everyone to like you."

"But it's the only way I get their attention," Annabeth says.

"Then turn up the volume. Don't call them creeps."

"True," Percy says. "I mean, they all listen to me, don't they?"

Annabeth considers this. "I guess."

"There we go," Piper says. "Also, maybe don't tell them that their performance skills suck."

"But they do," Annabeth says.

"Yes, but there are nicer ways of putting it."

"You can't blame me for wanting this to be perfect."

"No," Piper says, "but we can blame you for not treating your actors well."

Leo takes this moment to return to the table, holding a tray with two plates on it. He slides back into the booth, handing Piper her plate, and then stabbing his fork into his pile of pancakes. "Are we still talking about Annabeth's terrible directing?"

Annabeth lets out a pained moan.

"I don't mean it offensively," Leo says, through a mouthful. "I think you're great. I admire the fact that you feel confident enough to insult everyone participating in the play and your borderline sociopathic ways of getting this perfect."

"Stop talking, Leo," Percy says.

Leo points his fork at Annabeth. "Think about it," he says, and that's the kicker, because he's probably serious, and because Leo's a darling who's frankly been an utter godsend to Annabeth these few weeks he probably doesn't mean anything by it, but Annabeth doesn't want to be a sociopath who insults everyone just to get a good show.

"That's it," she says. "I am changing for the better. Right here, right now. I swear by it."

"We need to make this serious," Percy says. "Let's all make a blood oath."

Piper frowns. "Uh, no?"

"No, that's a good idea," Annabeth says.

"I'm not shedding any blood for you."

"You don't have to," Percy says. "We can do it with maple syrup. Come on, just pour a little bit in your palm. We need to make this as official as we can so Annabeth stops moping and everyone stops hating her."

Annabeth glances at him, wounded. "I thought you said they didn't hate me."

"I was being nice," he says. "Come on, palms out."

Grumbling, Piper holds out her palm, and Leo does too. Percy picks up the little pitcher of maple syrup they have in the centre of the table, and pours a dollop on everyone's hand. Annabeth stares at her hand as he does it, watching as it drips onto her skin.

"Right," Percy says. "Everyone's hands in."

"I don't even know why me and Leo doing this," Piper says. "We're not swearing anything."

"You ruined our lunch date," Percy says. "You're absolutely doing this."

Piper grumbles mutinously.

Nonetheless, their hands all go in, and Percy nods at Annabeth. She takes a deep breath. "On this day," she says, "I, Annabeth Chase, swear that I will try and improve as a person and a director and not abuse my position of authority by calling the cast names through the megaphone and critiquing them. Instead, I will use the megaphone to spread messages of love and happiness and still critique them but nicely."

Percy beams at her. Annabeth smiles back.

"Amen," Leo says, pulling his hand back and licking his palm clean. "Well, now Annabeth has sold her soul to the maple syrup devil and we're all sticky, can I please start on my meal? We need to be back at school in twenty minutes."

•

The following Monday, Annabeth slides into her seat in homeroom and says conspiratorially to Percy, "I have it."

Percy frowns. "What?"

"You said that yelling at the cast was not the way to win their affections. So, I thought long and hard about it and I came up with the perfect solution." She pulls her necklace out of her shirt. "Look!"

"Is that... a whistle?"

"Yep!" Annabeth tucks it back into her shirt. "Isn't it amazing? This'll be bound to get their attention."

"You want to—blow a whistle at them."

"Precisely. Isn't it a great idea?"

"Uh." Percy looks a little hesitant. "I'm not sure how many people are going to take very positively to being whistled around like dogs."

Annabeth frowns. "You don't like it?"

"Well... I didn't say _that_ —"

Annabeth squares her shoulders. "You know what, Percy," she says. "You are entitled to your own opinion, but I personally think this whistle is a work of sheer genius and that I've just discovered a way to honour the oath and be a good director all at the same time. You can say whatever you want but I believe I've made the right choice here."

An amused look crosses his face. "Well, each to their own," he says. "Ten dollars you'll get shunned."

"I'll take that bet," she says. They shake hands. "We have rehearsal after school. I'm going to have everyone respecting me in absolutely no time."

He just grins. "Whatever you say."

Percy isn't the only one who thinks the whistle is a bad idea, though. At lunch, she tells Piper about her plan, and Piper pulls a face like she's severely constipated.

"What?" Annabeth demands. "Don't you think it's a good idea?"

"Not really," Piper says.

"It's a terrible idea," Thalia cuts in. "Everyone's going to hate it."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Annabeth asks.

"Because it's true."

"Well." Annabeth sticks her chin in the air and petulantly picks up her sandwich. "Whatever. I don't care what you think anyway."

Piper snorts. "Yes you do."

"Only a little, but be prepared to be proven wrong anyway. Chiron entrusted me with this job for a reason."

"Yes, because you're good at directing, not so you can blow a whistle at everyone."

Annabeth points a carrot stick at her. "At least I'm not calling them names."

"I think this may be worse."

"Well, Percy and I have placed bets on it, so."

"You placed bets on whether or not you blowing a whistle at school play rehearsal is going to go down well?" Thalia asks incredulously. When Annabeth nods, she throws her hands up. "I give up with you two. _Honestly_. This is why I don't do school plays."

"You're literally doing a school play right now," Piper points out.

"Yeah, because the Witch is a badass part, not because I actually enjoy being around absolute nerds."

"We're not nerds," Annabeth argues.

"Oh, honey."

"What's going on with you and Percy, anyway?" Piper asks.

Annabeth frowns. "What do you mean?"

"Like, are you two dating now? What's happening?"

" _Dating_?"

"Finally," Thalia says.

"We're not dating," says Annabeth.

Piper falters. "What? But—you guys were snuggling and then Leo and I caught you guys on a date, remember?"

Annabeth lets out a laugh. "That wasn't a date!"

"Percy literally called it one."

"It's a friend date. Drew keeps hogging up all his time because she's an evil snake and we missed hanging out with one another, so every Saturday for the lunch break we go to Pat's Diner and get pancakes together."

Piper and Thalia exchange a look.

Annabeth notices. "What?"

"Nothing," Piper says.

"No, that was obviously something."

Thalia picks up her burrito. "You'll find out soon enough," she says smugly.

Annabeth scowls at them. Cryptic assholes.

Eventually, rehearsal rolls around, as it does, and by that time several things have happened.

1) Thalia managed to find the time to get stoned again

2) half the freshmen have detention because clearly they thought terrorising a substitute was more important than rehearsals and therefore can't attend, and

3) Drew Tanaka and Octavian have, for the first time, been in the same room at the same time as each other.

When you're directing a musical, you learn several things – the first being which people should never be in the same vicinity as each other, ever. One of the first pairings Annabeth has made sure to separate was Leo and caffeine, which is alarmingly hard seeing as he's cottoned on and has started sneaking coffee into water bottles, hip flasks and cakes.

Another pair, however, is Drew and Octavian.

Not because they don't get along, or anything. It's just Annabeth's head kind of fries after extended exposure from one of them after a period of time, and she's afraid if they're both there her brain might just frazzle up and dissolve.

But, alas, the day must come. And this is the day they do a full run-through of the prologue. Which includes both of them.

Heaven help her, honestly.

"How long do we have to be here?" Drew asks. "I have things to do."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you signed up for a musical," Annabeth says.

"I didn't realise being in a musical meant two hours in a room with a bunch of drama freaks and their hysterical, frizzy-haired leader after school."

Unbidden, Annabeth's hands twitch towards her own ponytail. She has to clench her fists so they won't move – she will not give Drew the satisfaction. Unfortunately, Drew notices, and she smirks.

"Well," Annabeth says, struggling to keep her temper in check, "if it bothers you that much you can always quit."

"Wouldn't that be convenient," Drew says, still smiling sweetly.

"Don't feel obliged to stay here. By all means, leave if you want to."

"Luckily for you, I'm staying."

They both smile falsely at each other. Annabeth wants to deck her.

"Uh," Percy says. "Should we—start?"

"Yeah, Annabeth," Drew says. "Let's _start_."

Across the room, Octavian calls, "Annabeth? Can I confer with you about one of my lines?"

"I want death," Annabeth says to Percy.

Percy rubs her shoulder reassuringly. "Just hold on for a couple more years. Statistically celebrities who die in their twenties get even more famous."

"Although if you want to push it forward a few years, no one would complain," Drew says sweetly.

It's one of the nicer things she's said to her, but the look Percy gives her is pure venom. "Don't talk to her like that," he snaps.

Drew looks a little startled. Annabeth can't imagine she's ever been scolded by one of her conquests before, and at her expense, too. She can't help but preen a little.

"Sorry," Drew mutters, after a stilted pause.

Percy nods once, sharply, and then turns back to Annabeth. "You go deal with Octavian," he says. "I'll finalise this section and then we'll piece it together and cross fingers that it goes smoothly."

"It's an eleven-minute song, Percy," Annabeth says. "How well can it really go."

But inside she's glowing. Take that, Drew. Best friends trump dumb kissing arrangements _any_ day.

•

"—and then, Thalia, I want you to sweep your arm like this—yeah, like that!—and then do a spin, so you can end up over here." Annabeth drums her fingernails on the edge of the stage, staring down at her script. "And—Octavian, Hazel, you come down here. Thank you, good. Alright, everyone, let's do—oh, wait, last note: when Thalia sweeps her hand, you all need to react, okay? This is a Witch waving her magic fingers in your face. Flinch backwards or something. Remember – acting is reacting."

"I don't think I should do that," Octavian says. "I believe that the baker is quite courageous."

"Yes, but—this is a Witch. The same Witch who cursed your house and is currently telling why she made you and your wife barren."

"Yes, but I feel like he wouldn't be afraid in the face of danger. That's what It Takes Two was all about. The baker discovering new things about himself."

Annabeth's eye twitches. "Just—humour me, okay?"

"Okay." Octavian looks deep in thought. "Can I make one other note?"

Oh my God. "Go ahead."

"I do believe that the baker and the Witch should be standing closer together."

"Absolutely not," Thalia says. (The weed has kind of worn off by now. Annabeth hopes.)

"I'm going to have to go with Thalia on this one," she says. "There's no real reason why you should be any closer."

"No, I believe there is," Octavian insist. "Perhaps the Witch is merely lonely, which is why she targeted such a couple as us, and considering the baker is a strapping young lad I feel that she may have some sexual feelings towards him."

Cross-legged in a spinny chair next to her, Piper splutters her latte all over her Math homework.

"No," Annabeth says.

"It would make sense," Octavian insists.

"No, it wouldn't. Can you please just go with the original stage directions, please? And stay next to your wife?"

It's completely the wrong thing to say. Octavian takes this as full permission to draw Hazel tightly into his arms. "Very well," he says graciously, like he's granting her a massive favour.

"It's like watching a car crash in slow motion," Piper says to her when the music starts again. "I'm equally fascinated and horrified."

Thalia begins her rap. Octavian strokes Hazel's arm, and Hazel looks vaguely nauseous.

 _Same_ , she thinks grimly.

Percy appears next to her. "How's it looking?" he asks. His breath tickles her ear, and she finds herself suppressing a shiver.

"It's all right," she says. "The good news is that Thalia has completely nailed this song and she looks brilliant doing it. We just need to dim the lights, tousle up her hair and put her in a potato sack, and I think she'll look incredible. But Octavian's ruining it every single time."

Together, they watch as, right in the middle of Thalia's line, Octavian dramatically dips Hazel. Next to her, Piper puts her head in her hands.

"Cut," Percy calls, and the music peters off. "Octavian. What exactly are you doing?"

"I'm caressing my wife," he says.

"I feel a teeny bit violated," Hazel says meekly.

"Take a break," Annabeth says.

She's never seen Hazel run so fast.

"Did I do something wrong?" Octavian asks.

Annabeth almost bursts into hysterical laughter because honestly what _hasn't_ he done wrong at this point but before she can actually rip him in half with her own nails she feels Percy's hand on her shoulder. "Yes," Percy says. "You have, actually. You need to stop—whatever it is you're doing with Hazel."

"And every other female actor you're onstage with," Piper adds, without looking up from her Maths book.

"Hear, hear," Thalia says.

"I'm just staying in character," Octavian says. "What's so wrong with that?"

Percy's hand tightens on Annabeth's shoulder. "Well," Percy says. "We think you may have interpreted the character a bit wrong."

" _Wrong_?"

Octavian's face has gone very pinched.

"Yes," Percy says. He sounds a bit afraid now.

"I don't understand what you could possibly mean. I have been doing my research on this character for weeks now and I feel as though I have a good handle on who he is, and all I'm trying to do is implement that into my performance, and here you are, the two people who are meant to be my directors, criticising me for it?"

Annabeth loses all patience. "That's because the baker is just an ordinary dude who runs a bakery and wants a child. He is not a permanently horny, hypersexual, wannabe air hostess, he is a fully grown man who can keep his dick in his pants so he does not want to have sex with every single female character he lays eyes on, and his name is absolutely _not_ Tarquin Kenicky."

Octavian is silent, and for a few glorious moments Annabeth actually thinks she's gotten through to him. She stands, watching him carefully, her chest slightly heaving. Has she finally done it? Has she managed to crack him?

But then—

"Kuznetsov," he says.

"Bless you," Thalia says absently.

"What?" Annabeth says.

"His name," Octavian says, "is Tarquin Kuznetsov. Not Tarquin Kenicky."

Annabeth blinks.

"Speaking of," he continues, flipping a few pages in his script. "At this point, the baker's wife says, _come on, let's go!_ However, after reading it several times, I've deduced that at this point their sexual tension is at an all-time high, so I think she should say, _come on, let's go, my dearest Quinny_ , don't you?"

Annabeth can't even talk. She opens her mouth but nothing comes out.

"How do you deal with this?" Piper asks Thalia.

"Lots of marijuana," Thalia says. "Lots of it."

"I'll take you outside," Percy says gently to Annabeth.

She is still speechless. She lets herself be carted out the doors.

"I didn't even use my whistle," she whispers.

"It's okay," Percy says. "You can use it another time."

She allows herself to be taken to the quad. It's not a bad day outside – the air is nippy, and Annabeth's skin ripples with goosebumps, but the sky is blue and the sun is bright, and the few stray kids scattered across the benches cast long shadows across the grass. Still. The last thing she feels right now is _tranquil_.

"Are you okay?" Percy asks.

"I want to rip Octavian Spencer in _half_ , if that's what you mean."

"I'm gonna get you a coffee," Percy says decidedly. "Come on, let's go."

"But—rehearsals..."

"Piper can fend for herself for about ten minutes. They won't miss us. Besides, I'm doing a public service."

"What?"

"Preventing a death."

"You should get a medal."

"I should, especially since I'm buying." Percy slings his arm over her shoulders. "Come on, there's a Starbucks across the road from school."

It's funny, Annabeth thinks a little wistfully, as they walk towards the gate. She and Percy haven't hung out like this for so long – in fact, before Into The Woods started, she can't remember the last time they had done something together, just the two of them. He's so wrapped around Drew's finger that she's completely domineered his free time – until now, that is. Being co-directors mean they get a lot of BFF time.

Like, yeah, okay, she gets he's in love with Drew and whatever, but he can't forgo friendship. Bros before hoes, right? Or something less demeaning. Whatever.

In fact, it feels just like the old times, as they walk into the Starbucks and Annabeth is blasted by the sweet smell of cinnamon rolls. Greedily, she inhales. She and Percy had been avid Starbucks patrons for years when they were in middle school, and honestly she can't see a blueberry muffin without thinking of stifled Thursday afternoons when she still wore blouses buttoned up to her throat and ordered herbal teas and was basically the most stuck-up thirteen year old in the world and Percy would nod around the straw of his hot chocolate, eyes glazed over. She hasn't been in this particular Starbucks for ages, to be honest. Her eyes flick subconsciously to the little booth in the corner, "their booth", as she had called it, and it's occupied now, but she knows that under the edge of the table their names have been Sharpied onto the wall.

It makes her smile slightly.

She comes out her reverie with a start when Percy digs his wallet out of his pocket. "What do you want?" he says.

"Are you actually paying?"

"Consider it you winning the bet."

Annabeth snorts. "I never even got to use the whistle."

"Yes, well, Octavian's more of a psycho than I thought, so I thought I'd make you feel better. Having said that, though, if you do blow your whistle and everyone laughs at you next Saturday's lunch is totally on you."

"I'll take you up on that," Annabeth says, "only because you're buying me the biggest frappe they have here and a slab of millionaire shortbread out of the goodness of your heart."

They shake.

"So is that what you want?" Percy says. "A frappe and a piece of shortbread?"

"And a muffin."

Percy gives her a look.

"Trauma," she explains seriously.

"You're going to run me dry, Bethie."

"You cannot offer to buy me Starbucks and then complain I'm emptying your wallets. You have to have expected it. Also what are the odds of me possibly nabbing a slice of chocolate cake as well?"

"You keep this up and I'm going to start feeling a little used."

"Now, where would you get that idea?"

"Just a feeling."

"We can share the cake."

"Better. How much will you smack me if I trade your frappe for a babycino?"

"If instead of a hot delicious frappe you bring me ten grams of _foam_ , I will decapitate you with one of those little wooden sticks, and I swear on it."

He laughs, and they step up to the counter. The barista is a bored-looking kid with acne and a wispy moustache, and when he sees them he rolls his eyes and says, "What can I get you?"

"Maybe a smile?" Annabeth says.

Percy elbows her sharply and then smiles pleasantly at him. "Ignore her, she's stressed," he explains. "Uh, can I have a black coffee, two sugars, and a frappuccino—what kind, Beth?"

"Mocha."

"Seriously?"

"I need this sugar, Percy, or as soon as Octavian even breathes in my direction I'll have a heart attack."

"I think you'll have a heart attack if you eat all of this," Percy grumbles, but to the barista he says, "A mocha frappuccino, a blueberry muffin, a piece of millionaire shortbread and then a slice of cake."

The kid gives them a very judgemental look. Annabeth just scowls at him. He has no space to complain. _He_ doesn't have to deal with Octavian Spencer.

They gather their food and then find an empty table, sitting down at it and dumping their plates on it. Annabeth almost moans as she sinks into the cushions of the chair. Apparently she tenses a lot during rehearsals. Who knew.

"I do feel a little bad," she says. "We completely abandoned our cast to go eat cake."

"You deserve it," Percy says, which is actually really nice of him. "Feel no remorse."

"Yeah, but we only have so many rehearsals."

"Annabeth, it's January. The play is in March. We've got heaps of time."

"I know, but—"

"No, shh. Eat your cake."

Annabeth scowls at him, and eats her cake.

"Besides," Percy continues. "I'd be lying if I said this was for entirely selfless reasons. I just needed to get out there. Both Octavian and Drew were driving me mad."

Drew? Annabeth struggles not to let her glee show on her face. Instead, she says, "Trouble in paradise?" and tries to sound as sympathetic as she can.

"I guess." Percy stabs a piece of cake, and then just stares at it on the end of his fork. "I don't know, it's just—ever since Into The Woods, she's just been so unbearable to deal with. I guess with our— _arrangement_ we never had to do much talking, and now that she's started it's like she's a whole other person."

 _YES YES YES_. "That sucks."

"I know." He sighs. "I mean, not that—" He stops. "It doesn't matter."

Annabeth frowns. "No, what?"

"It's stupid."

"Well, of course it is, it's you, but that doesn't mean anything. Come on, what?"

"Don't worry, just leave it. It's not a big deal."

Annabeth narrows her eyes, and Percy smiles winningly at her.

"You do realise how unfair this is, right," she says.

"It's my business," Percy says.

"Yes, but I'm your best friend. You can't dangle a carrot like that in front of my nose, it's rude!"

"Annabeth—"

"Come on, Percy. You can tell me!"

"No."

"Do you not trust me or something?"

She knows it's under-the-belt, but she doesn't quite realise how much so until Percy looks like someone just murdered his family. "What? No! Of course— _of course_ I trust you, I just—"

She waits.

He sighs, and then reaches across the table and takes her hand. "Look, Annabeth—"

"Hiding out here too?"

Percy jerks away like he's been burnt. They both look up. It's Jason, with a cup of coffee and a sympathetic expression on his face.

Dumbly, Annabeth says, "What?"

"You guys hiding from Octavian too?"

"Oh, yeah." Annabeth smiles. "We made a break for it when we could."

"Smart." Jason pulls a chair from an empty table so he can sit with them and straddles it, folding his arms on top of the backrest and taking a sip of his coffee. "Sometimes I don't know how you two deal with it, to be honest."

Percy sighs. "Me neither, Jase," he says. "Me neither."

He's being weird. Annabeth squints at him, but when his face gives nothing away she just shakes her head and takes another forkful of her shortbread. "How's it looking back there?" she asks. "We bolted as soon as we could."

"Eh," Jason says. "Piper and Hazel have taken charge. They're a pretty good team. Hazel comes up with all the good ideas and Piper yells them at everyone."

"Has Octavian been reined in?"

"Has anyone managed to rein him in? He's still causing havoc, but Piper apparently keeps a switchblade in her pocket and she threatened him with it."

Percy frowns. "Piper keeps a switchblade in her pocket?"

"Didn't you know?" Annabeth says. "She's had it there for ages."

"Why?"

"She says she likes to see the fear on people's faces when she pulls it out. I don't know."

Jason looks dazed. "Damn."

Annabeth smirks into her muffin, and pulls out her phone to check the time, but she gets distracted by the text notifications on her home screen.

 **Piper** : wtf annie WHERE R U

 **Piper** : DID U JUST LEAVE ME TO DEAL WITH OCTAVIAN ALL BY MYSELF

 **Piper** : omg percy's not here either r u kidding me u guys went on a date

 **Piper** : noW JASONS GONE WHERE ARE YOU ALL GOING

 **Annabeth** : Jason's with us

 **Annabeth** : you've made quite an impression on him

 **Piper** : don't distract me with lies

 **Piper** : where did you go?

 **Annabeth** : (I wasn't lying)

 **Annabeth** : we're at starbucks

 **Piper** : STARBUCKS

 **Piper** : (wait srsly)

 **Annabeth** : I needed a breather I was going to throw myself out the window

 **Annabeth** : percy recognised the signs and took me for cake because he's a good friend

 **Annabeth** : (yeah he thinks the switchblade is sexy)

 **Piper** : (I KNEW the switchblade was a boy magnet what did I tell u)

 **Piper** : and fine I guess

 **Piper** : I'll forgive u if you come back and bring me cake

 **Piper** : but this is the LAST TIME you are leaving me with octavian so you and percy can canoodle

 **Annabeth** : we're not canoodling

 **Piper** : at this point im not even gonna argue just GET BACK ASAP

Annabeth slides her phone into her pocket. "Piper says she's got everything under control," she says.

Percy snorts. "No she didn't."

"Can you blame me for wanting just ten minutes to enjoy my food?"

"Not really," Jason says. "Especially with this feast."

"I needed the sugar rush."

"She's running me dry," Percy grumbles.

"You offered!"

"I didn't know you'd buy the entire store!"

Annabeth pulls a face at him, and he pulls one back. Under the table, his foot presses against hers, an apology, and she gently kicks the sole of his shoe to say _you're forgiven_.

Jason checks his watch and sighs. "I should be heading back," he says. "I told Piper I'd only be gone for a teeny bit, and I think everyone's getting a little murder-inclined."

"I don't blame them," Percy says. "Octavian also makes me feel like killing someone."

"Yeah, like myself," Annabeth mutters.

"I'll see you guys in there," Jason says, standing up. "Don't be too long, though – literally every single cast member except you guys are in the opener and there's only so much we can do when Cinderella and the Witch are directing."

"Don't guilt-trip us," Annabeth says. "I'm enjoying my feast."

"We'll be back in, like, ten minutes," Percy assures Jason.

Annabeth crams cake in her mouth. "Twenty."

"Fifteen," Percy says. He smiles, and Jason smiles back. They're both so handsome. Sometimes Annabeth wonders how she managed to score friendship with two of the most attractive people in school and still no boyfriend is in sight.

"I'll see you there," Jason says with a laugh, and then he's gone.

As soon as he's out of earshot, Annabeth points her fork at Percy. "You were saying something?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"How dare—"

"Honestly, Beth. It's nothing. Just drop it."

It's absolutely not just nothing, but there's something in his voice that stops her from pressing. After one final sceptical eyeball, she says, "Okay" and leaves it.

•

 _Rock, paper, scissors._

Annabeth has scissors. Percy has rock.

"Dammit," she hisses.

"You have to do it now," Percy says.

"I can't! She _hates_ me!"

"Yeah, and can you imagine what she thinks of me? At least you're good at Algebra!"

"Percy, I _can't_ —!"

Before she can finish her sentence, Percy's cheating little fist quickly sneaks up and raps three times on the door. Annabeth stares at him wide-eyed, and when a pinched, "Come in" sounds from behind it he opens the door and practically throws her through it.

Ms Dodds, seated at her desk, peers over the rim of her glasses. "Annabeth Chase," she says, her voice suspicious. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in class?"

"Um," Annabeth says. Has she mentioned how much Ms Dodds hates her? "Actually—"

"Do you have a slip?"

Annabeth blinks. "Sorry?"

"A slip? To excuse you from class?"

"Oh—no, I'm just here to get Piper and Leo, for the school musica—"

"Slip."

Annabeth deflates. "I don't have one."

"Then you shouldn't be here. Get back to class."

"No, but—Mr Brunner told me—"

"Miss Chase. If you do not have a slip with a teacher's consent written on it on why you are allowed to roam these hallowed halls during class time then you are breaking rules by being here."

"But—"

"Out, Miss Chase."

"Ms Dodds, you don't _understand_ —"

"Very sorry to bother you, Ms Dodds," Percy says, appearing next to Annabeth out of actually nowhere. She stares at him. "But it appears as though Annabeth forgot to bring her slip with her. Thankfully, I, her faithful companion and one of your favourite students, am here to save the day." He turns to Annabeth. "Silly Annabeth, how could you forget something as vital as her permission slip?"

In the back row, Leo and Piper are quietly losing it.

Annabeth tries not to flip a table. "So forgetful," she manages, through gritted teeth.

Percy produces a hall pass from his pocket and flounces over to Ms Dodds at the front of the room. She scowls at him through her tiny bottle-top spectacles, and then takes the slip from him like it's poisonous. For a few moments, there is silence, and Annabeth is silently praying because she sure as hell knows that Mr Brunner signed no permission slip and while Percy has an uncanny knack for forging things Ms Dodds is actually as old as God and can probably sense a counterfeit from a mile off, but it must actually be pretty convincing because with a deep sigh she says, "McLean, Valdez. You are excused."

Percy beams smugly at Annabeth. She pulls a face at him.

Piper and Leo come down the aisle and the four of them leave the room together. They're all trying to keep it together, although Annabeth's sure they're just suppressing laughter and not also the urge to kill, so as soon as the door slams shut they start cackling. Annabeth shouts, "How did you do that?"

"You sound angry," Percy says mildly.

"You were so kiss-ass," Leo wheezes. "I can't."

"How did you do that?" Annabeth demands. "Where's the slip from?"

Percy just smirks at her. "See, unlike you, Annie dearest, I utilise Mr Brunner's favouritism to my advantage." He shoves his hands in his pockets and then pulls them back out, and clenched in his fists are _dozens_ of hall passes. Annabeth stares at them. "I filched them off his desk."

"That's actually pretty impressive," Piper says. She rubs her hands together. "So, why'd you get us out of class? Drugs? Robbery?"

"Costume-fitting," Annabeth says. "Come on, Mr Brunner's waiting in the drama studio."

Piper takes Leo's arm and merrily the two of them set off down the hall. Annabeth and Percy lag behind a little.

"You're welcome," Percy says, more genuinely.

"I thought you hated her."

"You sounded panicked."

"I was. I had no idea what to do!"

Percy throws an arm over her shoulders. "So basically what I'm hearing here is that I'm your guardian angel."

She snorts, and snuggles into his side. "Guardian angel is a bit of a stretch," she says. "Conveniently timed thief is more like it."

"I had his complete permission to take those, for your information."

"Really."

"I'm not even kidding. Do you realise how much power we have as Brunner's favourites? You're just not opening your eyes to the power we hold. Last week I literally asked if he could excuse me from Geography so I could paint some of the set, and he said yes. We can literally do anything. He gave these to me so if we felt like we needed more rehearsal we could literally excuse ourselves from class to go practice. And he's so good for talking! I even went to him to ask about what colleges I should be looking at. We talked for, like, an hour."

"Damn," Annabeth says.

"With great power comes great responsibility," Percy tells her. " _And_ great privilege."

Annabeth rolls her eyes and lightly hip-checks him. "Yeah, yeah," she says. "Come on."

They enter the drama studio to find utter chaos, and somehow, it soothes her entirely. It's almost empty, aside from Mr Brunner, Rachel Dare from Art and a handful of principals. Next to Mr Brunner stands a freshman with a roll of tailor's tape in her hands, and she looks petrified to be surrounded by so many seniors.

"Ah, you're here," Mr Brunner says. "Good, now we can get started." He gestures towards the freshman, who swallows nervously. "Everyone, this is Lacey. She is going to be doing your measurements for the costume fitting."

"I still don't understand why I'm here," Thalia says.

"Maybe because you need a costume to be fitted," Piper says. "Wild, I know."

Thalia scowls at her. "But I'm the Witch. And don't all her clothes, like, not fit? Isn't that the entire schtick? Like, ooh, I'm old and haven't been in civilisation for centuries?"

"Exactly," Mr Brunner says calmly. "So we'll measure you and make sure to size up. Unless you'd like to go back to class, Miss Grace. I can even escort you there myself if you wish."

Annabeth snorts at the look on Thalia's face. It's last period – normally she'd be down at the off-licence, tightening the straps on her push-up bra to buy alcohol, or buying cigarettes from the corner-shop down the street whose owner never IDs you unless there's a cop nearby. Being here is forcing her to miss it all – but leaving would mean having to go back to class, which is inarguably infinitely worse.

"Looks like you're stuck here," Annabeth says sweetly.

Mr Brunner shakes his head. "Don't goad her, Annabeth."

"Yeah, Annabeth," Thalia snarks.

Annabeth just blows a kiss at her when Mr Brunner's back is turned.

"Do we need to be here long?" Octavian asks. "We were dissecting frogs in Biology."

"You'll be here as long as I need you to be," Mr Brunner says. "Step forward, please. Lacey will do you first."

"Wil we be required to undress?"

Annabeth already knows where this is going. "Just do it, Octavian," she says with a sigh. "And—keep your clothes on. Please."

Octavian sighs. "Very well. Although you know we can't get exact measurements if we have clothing."

"How unfortunate," Piper says.

Octavian steps next to Mr Brunner's wheelchair and Lacey starts tentatively unfurling her tape. Mr Brunner clicks his pen against the notepad he's holding, probably to write down the measurements, and to the rest of them he says, "While you're not needed you can help paint the set. We still need to start on the backdrop – Miss Dare was just about to begin, and I'm sure she'll appreciate your help."

"Yep!" Rachel says cheerfully. Annabeth quite likes Rachel. She hasn't spoken to her loads – they kind of float in different circles – but around showtime she's almost permanently coming in and out of the auditorium with buckets of paint, and she's always been perfectly cordial whenever they do talk. "Come on, I'll show you what you can do."

She leads them all to the stage. The floor has been covered in dozens of binbags, secured down with duct tape, and there are cans of paint almost everywhere Annabeth looks. The wall is completely blank, aside from a thick pencilled outline of what's going to be up. Just looking at it has her smiling. She and Percy had picked out that design specifically from all of Rachel's options.

"Right-o," Rachel says. "So, the paint is all there, and all the cans have been labelled with specific colours. Just find a patch on the wall and see what shapes need to be filled in with what colours – I've made sure to write on the walls, too, so you won't get confused. When we're all finished I'll go over it and add shadow and depth. Does that sound good?"

"Do we get aprons?" Drew asks.

Thalia shucks off her jacket. "Oh, don't be a pansy, Tanaka."

"Says you!"

"This jacket cost almost two hundred dollars."

"Yeah, well, so did these shoes."

"Then use your brain, take them off and stop complaining." She rolls up her sleeves. "Now let's get started before I actually go mad."

Drew seethes, but she must know that arguing with her is useless. Petulantly, she picks up a paintbrush and dips it in the nearest can.

Annabeth picks a spot near the wings and starts to paint. When she looks up, she sees that Percy's stationed himself next to her, and she smiles at him. "Hey."

"Hey." He dips his brush in a can of blue paint, and then gives her a sideways look. "Only a month 'til showdown. How are you feeling?"

"Okay, actually. I think everything's looking good."

"Aside from the backdrop, what else do we need to paint?"

Annabeth thinks. "Uh. Oh, the stage boards. We managed to get wheels on them but we still need to paint them. And the stage blocks, I was thinking making them brown or green. And we still have all the props that we need to make as well. Ugh." She drops her head against the wall. "We have so much to do."

"Chin up. We have a while."

"A month."

"Still a while."

"Yeah, yeah." She starts tracing the outline of a flower. "Hey, are you free Friday night?"

He glances at her. "Sure, why?"

"Want to stay the night? We haven't had a sleepover for ages, and I finally managed to find a website that does all three Lord of the Rings movies in good quality with no buffering." She pauses. "Well, minimal buffering."

Percy beams. "Sounds awesome. Should I bring snacks?"

"But of course. Jelly babies?"

"And Oreos. Maybe even double-stuff."

She moans. "That's it, talk dirty to me."

He leans in close to her, his breath tickling her ear. "I'll also bring my mom's cookies. The ones with Smarties in them."

"Your mom is actually the best," Annabeth says. "I want her to cater my wedding."

Percy snorts and leans away. "Mood ruined."

"What? I so would! My wedding cake could just be an entire stack of cookies covered in fondant. Imagine how divine that would be."

"The ultimate aphrodisiac."

"Like you don't even know."

Before Annabeth can respond, Piper materialises between the two of them like a particularly ill-dressed genie. Who is, as Annabeth quickly comes to realise, _completely_ covered in paint. "What are we talking about over here?" she asks, slinging an arm around both of their shoulders. "Impress me, because over there Thalia dearest was discussing disembowelment with Bianca di Angelo who looked to the point of throwing up."

"We're talking about Percy's mom," Annabeth stays.

Piper starts humming _Stacey's Mom_. Annabeth cackles and Percy shoves at both of their heads.

"I kid, I kid," Piper says, lightly hip-bumping him. "Mama Jackson's the best. Speaking of – Perce, think you can hook me up with any of her cookies anytime soon? Legendary, I tell you. Eating those made me understand Shakespeare and his need for sonnets."

"I'm getting some on Friday," Annabeth gloats.

"Aw, sweet! What's Friday?"

"Movie night."

"I'm in." Piper slaps them both on the back. "Harry Potter again?"

"Lord of the Rings, actually," Percy says. His face looks a bit pinched but that's only probably because Piper's covered in paint and she's pressing herself right into them. "We're doing a marathon."

"Sounds epic," Piper says. "And then we can all go to rehearsal in the morning together! Sounds like a game plan, lads." She pats their backs again, and then smacks Percy's shoulder's kind of hard. "Looking good, Jackson," she adds, nodding towards the wall. "I'll talk to you guys later."

"Bye, Piper," Annabeth says, amused. When she's gone, she says, "Friday's gonna be fun, then."

"Yeah," Percy says.

They work in companionable silence for a few more minutes. Rachel's put on some music, a string of cheerful pop songs Annabeth's never heard before but thoroughly enjoys, and next to her Drew is bickering with Octavian about which shade of brown they shade paint the trunk of the tree because "it's a tree you imbecile it's obvious it's got to be oak brown" "Drew, anyone with eyes and taste can see that it should be nut brown" "well I think _you're_ nuts for thinking you have anything even near taste", when Mr Brunner calls, "Annabeth?"

Annabeth looks over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Can you come here for a few moments? I need some help working out the dimensions of Red Riding Hood's cape."

"Sure." Annabeth rests her paintbrush against the rim of the paint can and hops lightly off the stage. "What's up?"

She's there for only a few moments – "How long do you think it should be? We only have so much fabric and we're deciding if we should make a hood or not" – but by the time she hoists herself back onstage Piper is back, and she and Percy are whispering furiously.

Now, listen. Annabeth does not consider herself a peeping Tom, or a hearing Tom, or any kind of Tom, really. She thinks eavesdropping is rude and she's not about to go listen in on a conversation between two of her best friends.

That is, until she hears her name.

(Can you blame her for ducking into the wings to listen in. No, okay. You can't. You'd do the same.)

"—thought you _knew_ ," Percy hisses.

"Of course I know," Piper says. "Why is it bothering you? I thought it was ' _just a rumour'_."

Percy looks around, and then ducks his head furtively. "Well," he mumbles. "Not anymore."

"Then you should have _said_ something, you idiot!"

"Like what? _No, don't come, I_ —"

"Listen to me, my friend. When you want something? You take it. You don't just wait for it to drop in your lap."

"What if I don't want it to happen?"

Piper laughs. "You're kidding, right?"

"I mean—it's never going to happen. Why bother trying? Every time I've gotten even close something always happens."

"Yeah, and have any of them been her screaming 'stop speaking, I know what's happening'?"

"Well—no, but—"

"Well, then. It's just bad timing. And maybe stop trying in public places."

"Yes, that was the _plan_ until you jolly invited yourself—"

"Oh, stop it. I can fake ill if it bothers you that much—"

"No, don't do that. I suppose I'll just have to deal." He sighs dramatically.

Piper elbows him in the side and he squawks. "Stop being such a drama queen," she says. "If it makes you feel any better I'll make sure to take lots of bathroom breaks every time it looks like you're close to conf—hey, that was a new shirt, you dick, _come here_ —"

Annabeth decides that now's probably a good time to step in before the two of them start an actual paint fight. She comes out the wings and actively tries to look like she wasn't just eavesdropping in on their conversation. "Whoa, guys," she says. "I was gone literally two minutes!"

"Friendly competition," Percy says.

Annabeth eyes their shirts, both which are covered in paint. "I'm sure," she says.

"Are we painting the wall over there?" Rachel calls.

"No," Annabeth says, at the same time as Percy and Piper says, "Yes."

Annabeth gives them a look.

"We are!" Piper defends.

"Why are you even over here?"

"I was giving Percy some advice," she says. "He asked me how I achieved the effortlessly-cool look, seeing as he lacks and all sexual prowess. I was giving him some examples."

"By painting him?" Annabeth asks, an eyebrow raised.

Piper has a very pointed look on her face. "Yes," she says after an extended pause.

"We were just discussing what to get Jason for his birthday," Percy says. "And Piper was just leaving, wasn't she?"

They're lying.

Piper smiles winningly. "What, don't you want me around?"

Percy flicks more paint at her and she shrieks. "Okay, okay, I'm going!"

 _Why are they lying?_

Annabeth stares at them. What were they talking about that they feel they can't tell her? She feels—hurt. She, Percy and Piper have been a unit. A strange little unit, especially for the first couple of months Percy and Piper despised each other with a passion and now they love each as fiercely as siblings, but a unit nonetheless. And yeah, she gets inside jokes, she has some with Percy that Piper doesn't get and some with Piper that Percy doesn't get, but—

She feels hurt. But if they want to keep secrets from her, then that's on them.

•

Annabeth kind of forgets her plan to sulk and make passive-aggressive comments all throughout the night the second Percy and Piper walk through the door.

"The Chase residence greets me once again," Piper says loudly. She runs her hand along the banister of the stairs and says in a low voice, "I missed you, baby."

"Stop molesting my house," Annabeth says. "Did you bring snacks?"

"Not even a hello?" Percy says, but he's digging through his bag and within seconds he's produced a fistful of plastic bags. "I have jelly babies, Oreos, Reese's – cups _and_ pieces, Piper, calm down – about three hundred chocolate bars and a whole tub of my mom's cookies."

"Good God," Annabeth says in amazement. "Are you trying to feed an army?"

"I think Mom thought we were starving." He gives Piper a look. "Since you went veggie I think she's partially convinced you're permanently malnourished or something."

"Not complaining," Piper says, already knuckle-deep in a bag of chocolate buttons. "Your mom's a such a G, Perce."

Percy looks immensely pleased. "Yeah, yeah," he says. "Come on, we need to start watching if we're going to get these all done by one am."

They all troop upstairs into Annabeth's room, and Percy and Piper dump their bags on the floor. Annabeth already has her laptop set up, illegal websites ready for streaming, and grabbing the duffel with the food she collapses onto the bed. Percy and Piper quickly follow suit, crawling next to her and stealing snacks from the bag. They're all still in their jeans and Piper's wearing a long necklace that's digging into Annabeth's side but it's lovely nonetheless, and Annabeth snuggles in close with them.

"All right," she says. "Fellowship of the Ring, here we come."

They manage to watch the first movie in relative silence, and the second movie is only slightly twitchier. But by The Return Of The King Piper has left for the bathroom four times, Percy keeps fidgeting on the blanket and Annabeth's eyes are beginning to ache.

Apparently, seven hours of movies hurts. Who knew, right.

The initial plan was wipe out all he movies by one, and they go to sleep, because they have to get up early tomorrow for rehearsal. But in reality, by the time one am rolls around, they've eaten all the candy and are still wide awake, and Piper has produced beer from her own bag and now it's two fifteen in the morning and they're all tipsy and currently giving each other pedicures.

Annabeth pinches Percy's ankle. "Stop moving," she orders irritably. "I'm smudging nail polish all over your feet."

"Sorry, sorry." Percy wiggles his toes from where they're pressed up against her thigh. "How long do these take to dry, again?"

"About ten minutes," Piper says from across the room. She's painting her own toenails, holding the cap of the brush like it's poisonous, her fingers stretched wide so she doesn't smudge her manicure. "But to be safe don't touch anything for like forty minutes."

"Forty minutes? What?"

"It can smudge even when it's not dripping wet," Annabeth says. "Oh, for God's sake, Percy, if you don't stop moving I'll jam your entire toe into the bottle, I will."

"This seems hazardous," Percy says.

"Yes, but you look pretty," Piper says.

"Aren't I always?"

"The prettiest," Annabeth assures him. "Now stop moving, before I make you the ugliest."

Piper snickers. "Sick burn, Annie," she mumbles, her face screwed up in concentration. "How long did it take for you to come up with that?"

"Shut up," Annabeth mutters. Percy laughs and pats her arm reassuringly, his fingers lingering.

"Don't worry," he says. "I felt insulted."

Annabeth thinks he may be the drunkest of them all, but he's kind of adorable when he's drunk so she doesn't poke fun about it. She just rolls her eyes and keeps painting his nails.

The comfortable silence only lasts a few more moments.

"Annabeth, Annabeth. Hey, Annabeth."

Annabeth sighs. "What, Percy?"

Percy beams at her. "You're pretty."

"Oh my God," Piper mutters.

"Thanks," Annabeth says. "Now, can you stop moving, please?"

"Okay." Percy adjusts himself and only proceeds to smudge more polish over her thigh. "I like your hair," he continues. "And your eyes."

Unbidden, Annabeth feels her face flush. "That's nice," she says.

"And you have nice hands. And nice fingers. And a nice face." He lets out a happy sigh. "And you have the most angelist voice I've ever heard."

"Angelist?" Annabeth says, raising an eyebrow.

"Like—like angels. When you sing. It sounds like angels."

Piper wheezes.

Annabeth doesn't really know how to feel. She feels a little uncomfortable, but something deep down inside of her feels kind of touched, too, and very flattered. "Thanks, Percy," she says. "Hey, you—maybe want to stop drinking?"

"I'll get him some water," Piper says.

"You don't have to do that."

"Yes, I do," Piper says. "You two are very adorable but, like, too much."

Annabeth scowls at her. "Ha ha."

Piper just gives her a big smile, and then leaves in pursuit of her kitchen.

Percy and Annabeth are left alone.

"I'm serious," Percy says, his voice a little quieter. "You're really pretty."

Annabeth smiles. "Thank you."

"You don't believe me, do you."

"I mean—you're drunk."

"I'm saying the truth," Percy insists. "You're—bee-yoo-tiful, Annie. I really think so, and I really think you have an angelly voice, and an angelly face, and angelly hands—"

Annabeth snorts. "Angelly hands?"

"Yeah. Pretty hands." Percy frowns a little, and then leans close. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Uh, sure."

Percy leans even closer, so his mouth is brushing her ear. "I. Like. You."

"I like you too, Percy."

"No—like, I—"

"Annabeth?" Piper shouts from down the hall, and Percy jerks away like he's been electrocuted. "Where do you keep the cups?"

"Cupboard above the sink," Annabeth calls back.

"Cool, thanks!"

Annabeth turns back to Percy. "What were you saying?"

"Nothing," Percy says. "Keep painting my nails."

"All right."

Drunk Percy's weird, man. Cute, but weird.

Piper returns with three glasses of water, and by the time three am rolls around they're all sober and completely wiped. Annabeth and Piper didn't have as much beer so they're kind of fine, but Percy, who's slowly coming down from his drunkenness as Piper force-feeds him water, is almost nodding off where he sits. Annabeth makes the executive decision to herd them all to her bed.

They all collapse in it, piled on top of each other. They're still in their normal clothes, but they're all far too tired to take them off. Piper curls into Annabeth's back and falls asleep almost immediately, and Percy and Annabeth are left awake in the emptiness, facing one another.

In the darkness of her room, Percy's eyes almost glow. "This was nice," he whispers. His breath dusts across her face, their noses a whisker apart, and it feels so achingly intimate that for some reason she feels a lump form in her throat. "Thanks for doing this."

"Of course," she says. God, why are her eyes burning? She's not going to cry, is she? "You're my best friend. We need to do this more often."

"Next time I can paint your nails."

She huffs out a laugh. "Nice try. You're not going near my nails ever."

"That's probably a good idea." He lets out a little sigh. So close, she can see everything in his face, and she has the strange urge to trace the acne scars on his jaw with her fingertips. "We're still on for lunch tomorrow, right?"

Annabeth frowns. "Of course. Why wouldn't we be?"

Percy just smiles. "Good." His hand comes up between them, right next to where hers is. They're not touching but she is so consciously aware of it that she can't move her eyes away. His fingers are long and slim and painted sparkly blue. Instinctively her own flex, and the back of their knuckles brush. She brings her eyes back up to his.

It's—suddenly almost _too_ intimate. They're lying so close that she can almost feel the heat of his body, and the headlights from outside reflect off his eyes and he's in her bed in her room wearing her nail polish and suddenly the lump's back because she's just so overwhelmed.

She stares at him, at his sparkly eyes and his sparkly nails, and unbidden, in the back of her head, she thinks, _I love you_.

Percy takes a breath. "Listen, Annabeth," he says. "There's—something I've been meaning to tell you."

She loves him.

Oh, _God_.

She stares at him, horrified. He doesn't seem to notice. "The thing is, Beth," he says, "I—"

" _Nggg_."

And then suddenly they're both being shoved across the bed, and Annabeth feels an arm hook over her waist and a leg around her thigh and her head is now squished into Percy's chest. She can feel his heartbeat, completely erratic, and she can also feel his sigh like an electric shock through her body. "Piper," he says unnecessarily.

"Yes, I gathered." Annabeth elbows behind her blindly, and she hears a low moan. "Piper, get _off_ me."

Piper makes an unintelligible noise and only snuggles in closer. Annabeth is at the point of kicking her, not because she doesn't appreciate Piper cuddles because she does, Piper gives great hugs, but they're both still in their jeans and she's bloody hot, when she feels her nuzzle into her shoulder blades, settle – and then start to snore. Annabeth stares at Percy.

"She's asleep," she says in disbelief. " _Un_ believable."

"Her ankle is literally halfway up my butt," Percy hisses. "How are her legs this long? Everywhere I turn is just a limb."

Annabeth gives her a few more elbows, and, although still asleep, Piper becomes malleable enough for Annabeth to manoeuvre her and her ungodly limbs to one side of the bed. With so much free space, Annabeth is able to push her face away from where it was shoved into Percy's chest, and tries to forget how good he smelled.

"Sorry," she says. "You were saying something?"

Percy just shakes his head. "Don't worry."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." He cranes his neck and peers at her alarm clock across the room. "It's getting late, we should probably sleep."

"Yeah." Annabeth pulls the duvet up to her chin, curling her legs into her chest. Normally, she's a chronic snuggler, and one of the best things about having a guy BFF who's willing to platonically share a bed with you is _shoulders_ , because damn, she could nap on those standing upright, but her—realisation has made it feel so wrong and like she's taking advantage of him that she just can't. Not tonight.

She _hates_ herself.

"Night, Percy," she murmurs, rolling over so she doesn't have to look at him.

She feels his breath across her shoulders. "Night, Beth."

He settles. She doesn't. She stares at Piper's sleeping face all night, head spinning.

She's in love with Percy.

Well, _crap_.

•

At lunch the next day, Annabeth tries to casually breach the subject.

"So," she says, trying to sound as normal as she can. "Have you thought about when you're going to ask Drew to be your girlfriend?"

Percy chokes on his drink. "What?"

"Your girlfriend. You two have been doing the whole friends-with-benefits thing for a while now. Haven't you thought about making it—official?"

It hurts to say.

"Drew?" Percy repeats.

"Uh, yeah? Your butt buddy, coital companion, etc.? The girl you're in love with?"

"I'm—" Percy looks very red. "I'm not in love with Drew."

"Percy, I'm your best friend. You can tell me."

"No, seriously. I'm not in love with Drew."

"Yes, you are."

"I think I'd know if I was in love with Drew Tanaka."

That makes Annabeth pause. He says the words _Drew Tanaka_ like they're poisonous. "We— _are_ talking about the same Drew Takana, right?"

"I just don't understand why you could think why I'm in love with her."

"Uh, because you guys have been having sex for the past year?"

Percy actually blushes a little. "It wasn't—all sex."

"That's not the point here, bud."

"Just because Drew and I have hooked up a few times doesn't mean I'm in love with her, Bethie."

Annabeth pauses. "Do you even _like_ her?"

"Not really." He sighs. "Well. I did, obviously. I mean, she's pretty, and experienced, and she wants me, right? When am I going to get that chance again? And—it worked, while we were hooking up. Because we didn't talk much. Literally, I should show you my text messages, it's just her being, like, parents are out, come over, and me saying, k. It's—so _bland_. I just guess I didn't realise that she was such a bitch until we actually started spending time around each other in Into The Woods."

Annabeth is speechless. For a few moments, her mouth even stops working.

And then she breathes, "You don't know how long I've waited for you to say that."

Percy laughs. "I guess I deserve that."

"Percy, you don't even understand. She has been my biggest problem for months now because of how terrible she is and it was so hard pretending I liked her because I thought you did. Oh my _God_." She slumps back in her chair, and points to her face. "Do you see this? This is the expression of someone who is experiencing the weight of eight hundred swallowed insults lifting off her shoulders."

Percy flicks a piece of strawberry at her, and she ducks, cackling. "Well, don't let me hold you back anymore," he says. "You can let rip."

"I will. She literally drives me only a fraction of a margin less crazy than Octavian. I am _filled_ with ecstasy at this news."

"I can't believe you actually thought I liked her."

"You two were bumping uglies for a year! Can you blame me?"

"To be fair, I didn't realise how much of a cow she was back then."

"Right, because you were so fixated on her magical vagina."

" _Annabeth_!"

"It's true!"

"Whatever." Percy nicks some of her waffle, and she lets him, only because he deserves it. "I like someone else, anyway, so."

And—

 _What_.

Annabeth feels it like a knife in the chest. She stares at him, winded. "...what?"

She had thought... God, she'd been so _blind_ —

"It's just some other girl," Percy mumbles, face red. "No big deal."

She clears her throat and tries not to act like her whole world is falling apart. She'd been so focused on Drew Tanaka that she hadn't even entertained the idea that maybe Percy liked someone else and maybe it wasn't her. "Who is it? Do I know her?"

"She goes to another school."

"Where did you meet her?"

"At the mall."

"The mall?"

"Yeah. She was just—walking around."

"What's her name?"

"Annab... belle."

 _Annabelle_. Are you _kidding_ me.

Like this actually needed to be any harder for her. Oh God, can you even picture her at the wedding. Percy and Annabelle will be saying their vows to each other and Annabeth's going to be in the back row, heart jolting every time someone says Annabelle's name because for a split second she's going to think, yep, that's me.

When she looks up and sees Percy's face, though, she suddenly realises she is way underplaying this. She is Percy's very best, platonic, non-romantic friend, and she needs to act like it.

"Annabelle!" she says, a little too loudly. The cashier shoots her a weird look. "Annabelle what? What's her Instagram? Snapchat? Does she have a Twitter?"

"Are you all right, Beth? You sound a little—manic."

"Manic, are you kidding, I'm great." She pulls out her phone so she doesn't have to look at his face. "What's her surname? I need to look her up." _See what I'm missing_.

" _No_!"

She blinks, and looks up at him. He's looks oddly constipated. "No," he says again. "You don't need to do that."

"Why not? I need to see if she's good enough for you." _Why_ I'm _not good enough_.

"What do you mean?"

Abort. "Uh. If she'll treat you right, you know? As a best friend it's my duty to make sure you don't end up with a serial killer. And after all that time you've spent putting up with Drew's abuse you deserve someone wonderful."

Percy smiles at her, and okay, she really doesn't need this now. "That's really sweet," he says.

Annabeth wants to shove her foot in her face. However, just as she's about to do the next best thing (let out a slightly hysterical laugh, pretend her heart wasn't just smushed underfoot and move on with life), someone else cuts in.

"Percy, Annabeth!" Thalia appears next to their table. "Fancy seeing you guys here!"

"Hey, Thalia," Percy says.

Thalia gives Percy's shoulder a pat and then slides herself into the booth next to Annabeth, affectionately tucking their ankles together. "You know, when Piper told me you guys hung around here I didn't really believe her," she says, conversational. "I mean, this didn't really seem like your mojo, you get me? Whenever I imagined you on dates all I could think of was, like, skipping through the park improvising some duet. But I was proven wrong!" She takes a sip of Annabeth's coffee and then pauses. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Percy sighs. "No."

"That was a very petulant no," Thalia says.

Act natural. "He's releasing all his pent-up frustration," Annabeth says. "Did you know he actually doesn't like Drew?"

Thalia looks at Percy. "Well, colour _me_ surprised," she says. "About damn time. What, while you were making out she accidentally cut you with that poison tongue of hers?"

"Kind of," Percy says. "Into The Woods has shown me she doesn't have much of a redeemable personality. Do you not like her either?"

"Are you kidding? I love her. She's hilarious. It's like watching a real-life soap opera."

"Everyone kind of hates Drew," Annabeth explains.

Percy sits back in his chair. "Am I that oblivious?"

Thalia snorts, and takes another sip. "Like you don't even _know_."

"I thought everyone loved Drew," Percy says.

"Kind of," Annabeth says. "Most people love Drew, except the people who have actually spoken to her."

"Damn."

"All that wasted time," Thalia agrees. She reaches over and swipes a lick of whipped cream from Annabeth's plate. "Oh, _snap_ , this place is good. You guys come here every Saturday?"

"Without fail," Annabeth says. "Stop drinking my coffee."

"I might just join you."

Percy and Annabeth glance at each other. Thalia catches it, and rolls her eyes.

"Hold your knickers, kiddies," she says. "I was joking. I don't fancy being a third wheel. You can keep your exclusive Percy/Annabeth time to yourself. Besides, this is far too much effort for me. I spend lunch breaks in various classrooms and get crumbs in all the teacher's keyboards. Last week I made sure to eat my honey sandwich over Mr Sanders' mouse. Got all gummed up by Monday. Total score."

"Is your whole life revolved around vengeance?" Percy asks.

"Only about eighty percent of it. He deserved it, though, the dick. He totally failed my Physics test on purpose because he found out that I was the one who hacked his Facebook and released all his awful college pictures."

Annabeth watches her. "You are a fascinating person," she tells her.

Thalia preens. "Thanks, I know." She takes one last sip of her coffee, and then stands up. "Well, this concludes my visit. I'll leave you guys to your date so you can resume lovingly looking into each other's eyes."

Percy chokes on his pancakes.

"We weren't lovingly looking in each other's eyes," Annabeth says. _Universe. Hear my prayer and swallow me whole._

"Sure. What time do we need to back in the auditorium for rehearsal?"

"One-thirty."

"I'll be there at two. Toodlepip, lovebirds!"

She salutes them, and then strolls out. Dazedly, Percy salutes back.

"Well," Annabeth says. "That was interesting."

"I think she might still be high," Percy says. His face is still a little flushed. Annabeth wonders if he's sick or something.

"Probably," she says. "Are you using the maple syrup?"

Percy slides the pitcher over to her. "All yours," he says. "I'm actually not feeling maple syrup too much at the—oh, that's a lot."

"I'm aware," Annabeth says grimly. If she can't drown herself, the least she can do is drown her sorrows. By drowning her pancakes. (It's a vicious cycle.)

•

"Mr Brunner, do you want to play chess?"

Mr Brunner looks up from his desk at Annabeth, and then at the chessboard she's clutching tightly in her hands. "Shouldn't you be in class right now?" he says mildly.

"It couldn't wait," she says tightly. "It's urgent."

For a few moments, there's a pause, and Annabeth feels her palms begin to sweat. But then Mr Brunner lets out a chuckle and takes his glasses off. "I do love a good game of chess. Come, sit. Can I make you a cup of tea?"

Annabeth sits down and puts the chessboard on the table. "Yes, please."

He flicks on the kettle and Annabeth glances around his office. She's always absolutely adored Mr Brunner's office; all the other teachers' offices are terrible. They're stuffy and academic and everything is in plastic binders and they don't even have any family pictures up. But Mr Brunner's office is like a home – it's small, and kind of cramped, but he has a kettle plugged into one of the sockets, a jar of wrapped toffees on the desk, and the walls are swamped in pictures of his drama students. Annabeth and Percy are up there a lot. He once mentioned that he never had children, so becoming a high school teacher was sort of like adopting a bunch of grandkids. Annabeth privately loves the idea.

"Green?"

"Yes, please."

He pours them both a mug, and then places them both on his desk, wheeling up closer. He takes a sip and says, "Now, let's see this board of yours."

Carefully, the two of them unpack the board. Annabeth has always liked chess – her dad isn't the best father in the world, and the fact that she was an accident isn't a secret. But he always tried and that's what mattered, and while other dads painted their daughter's nails and played princesses with them, Frederick and Annabeth sat at the dinner table and played chess.

"Do you want to flip a coin to see who's white?" Annabeth asks.

"No, I'll give it to you," Mr Brunner says. "I'll be black for today."

She slides over his pieces, and together they both assemble them in their correct spaces. It's nice being in here, quiet and untroubled, and the smell of their tea has her almost completely relaxed.

Almost.

When everything's set up, she lifts her hand to make her first move. But Mr Brunner says gently, "Do you want to tell me why you're really here, Annabeth?"

She doesn't respond, and instead slides a pawn across two spaces. He must see it in her face, because he doesn't press it, and instead moves his knight.

For a few minutes, they play in silence. It's almost comforting to allow herself to be so focused in on one thing. The past months have been ridiculously hectic – finals are going to kill her and Into The Woods is actually driving her insane. She's never been able to have more than three minutes without stretching herself too thin. Even in class, she can't relax. She hasn't been able to let herself forget everything else for even an hour so far.

It's maybe five minutes later when she says quietly, "You can't tell Percy."

Mr Brunner's eyebrows furrow. "This sounds serious."

"I think I'm in love with him."

She doesn't look up from the board, but in her peripheral vision she can see him pause. "I'm failing to see the problem here, Annabeth," he says gently.

"He's in love with someone else." She blinks back tears. "I'm too late."

Mr Brunner moves a piece. "And why are you telling me?"

"Percy said that we're your favourites," she says, and he huffs out a laugh. "And—he said that he could come to you for almost anything. And I haven't done that yet. And—you're the smartest person I know. You should know what to do."

She moves a piece and captures his castle. He watches her with gentle eyes.

"Annabeth," he says, and she looks up. "You know I can't help you here."

She looks down. "Yeah," she whispers. "I just—hoped you could."

She hears his wheelchair squeak, and when she looks back up he's taking a sip of his tea. "Love can be a funny thing, Miss Chase," he says. "As humans it's in our nature to fall in and out of love with almost everyone we see."

"But it's not that," Annabeth says. "I—we've been best friends since we were _eleven_ , Mr Brunner. And at first it was out of necessity because we both didn't have any other friends, but—but high school, and you, and this, and Drew Tanaka, and Into The Woods, and—we're actually friends, best friends."

"When did you realise you loved him?"

She moves her piece and doesn't look at him in the eyes. "That's the thing," she whispers. "I didn't. Because I think I've been in love with him all along."

Mr Brunner makes his move, and waits.

Annabeth takes the silence, and moves her queen. "But it can't happen. Because at first I thought he was in love with Drew Tanaka because they've been hooking up since they were fifteen because she had a magical vagina or something but then he doesn't and now he likes someone else and all he's ever going to see me as is as a friend because that's what I thought I was seeing him as but it wasn't, because eleven-year-old me saw him for the first time with his finger up his nose and went, yeah, that's the one I want to marry and then somehow I _forgot_ , and I thought these butterflies, and how we always get pancakes together, and how we have sleepovers and how we sometimes hold hands and how I can call him at two in the morning and I know he'll answer because it's me, I thought that was friendship, and it is, but it's not, because I love him and he loves me too but not in that way, never in that way, because I'm too late."

There's a long pause. Annabeth's eyes sting, and she stares unseeingly down at the board. She can't hear anything except the faint whir of the air conditioning and her own breath.

And then Mr Brunner says, "Congratulations."

She inhales. "What?"

"You checkmated me." He smiles. "You won."

Annabeth blinks, and looks at the board again.

Oh.

"Miss Chase," Mr Brunner says. "Have you ever thought that maybe he loves you too?"

She doesn't answer.

"Love isn't like Maths, Annabeth," he says gently. "There's no rhyme or reason to it, and you need to stop trying to find one. Percy having—relations with Miss Tanaka means nothing about his romantic feelings towards her, just as me having years more chess experience than you means you can't win. Do you want my personal opinion?"

"Kind of why I'm here."

"You and Percy are good for each other. You work well, the two of you."

She sniffs. "You think?"

"You two—have something. I knew it from the day I saw you two walk into this school. I remember that day vividly. You were wearing a cardigan with cats on and he had a wrist brace, and you both marched up to my office and told me you wanted to help out in some way. I've been teaching high school students for a long time now, and I can't think of a single time I've seen two students so fiery with passion for the arts, not like you two. But do you think you were the only students to approach me that day? Of course not. I had a lot. The musical theatre programme at this school is no laughing matter. It's serious. But I always put you two in charge together, because you worked well together. You suited each other, and you still do. I wouldn't put just anyone in charge of the school play. It's Stephen Sondheim, after all."

She manages a watery laugh. "Trust me, I remember."

He smiles at her. "You balance each other out," he says. "You have your strengths and your weaknesses and they work with each other. It's why you're such a good team. And who knows?" He smiles, and Annabeth looks down at the board, at the way all her pieces align. "If you try, you might just surprise yourself."

•

"He quit," Annabeth says in shock. "He _quit_."

Piper snorts around the cap of her pen. "Awkward."

"That's it." She spins her chair around to face everyone else. "We're done. We can't put on the play. We have to cancel."

"We don't have to be that drastic," Jason reasons.

"Octavian quit! And he's our baker! He's the main character!"

"I thought everyone was a main character," Thalia says, snickering.

Annabeth doesn't even dignify her with a response. "The show is in a week. We can't recast the baker in a week. The baker _is_ Into The Woods. Without him, we're screwed."

"Did he say why he quit?" Piper asks.

Thalia checks her phone. "Dear all," she reads out. "I, Octavian Spencer, step back from my role of the Baker in Stephen Sondheim's Into The Woods to go back to my roots and pursue other career paths."

" _Other career paths_?" Annabeth screeches.

"Sincerely, Octavian Spencer," Thalia finishes. She pockets her phone. "I don't even know why he titled it 'dear all', he only sent it to me."

"You kind of had it coming, Bethie," Piper says. "I mean, why on earth did you even cast him as the baker in the first place? He has the charisma of a wet sock."

"He's a good singer," Annabeth says pathetically.

"Even Hazel didn't like him," Piper says. "And Hazel likes everyone."

"True," Thalia agrees. "They were meant to be married and Hazel looked like she wanted to throw up every time he touched her. Which makes sense, because he has super clammy hands."

"I could do it," Jason offers. "I know the baker's part."

"But then who would play the prince?" Piper asks.

Jason shrugs. "The prince is a far smaller role for someone else to memorise."

"You can't," Annabeth says sadly. "You're the only one who can do Agony well enough."

At that moment, the door opens, and Percy swings himself in. "Hey, guys," he says. He produces a cup of coffee from his bag, and offers it to Annabeth. "Madamoiselle."

"I'm too depressed for coffee," she says but takes it anyway.

"Why? What's up?"

"Octavian quit," Piper explains.

"Oh, thank God, I hated him."

" _Thank God_?" Annabeth repeats incredulously. "Percy, he's our main character! Without him, we have no show!"

Percy kicks over a stage block and perches down on it, taking a sip of his own coffee. "Yeah, but with him you barely had one, either," he tells her. "He always looked too serious, and frankly I never kind of forgave you for casting him as the baker."

Annabeth stares gloomily down at her coffee. "I don't suppose it'd be too naïve to hope that one of the boys we turned away for the role somehow learnt it anyway out of spite."

"It would," Thalia tells her, and Annabeth scowls at her.

"Just do it yourself if you're so fussed, Annabeth," Piper says. "I mean, you know the whole show backwards."

Annabeth sighs. "Yeah, but—"

And then it hits her.

"Oh my God," she breathes.

"Ugh," she hears Thalia says. "She's got her I-have-an-idea face on."

She ignores her. "That's it! I'm a genius!"

Percy frowns. "What?"

" _You_ should play the baker!"

"Me?"

"That's—actually not a bad idea," Jason says. When Percy gives him a look, he raises his hands. "I'm just saying, man. You know the show and you're in musical theatre for a reason."

"Because I'm dramatic?" Percy guesses.

"No— _dude_. Singing. Dancing."

"Right, right."

"You can play the baker," Annabeth says. "Oh my God, Percy, this is perfect. You've got a brilliant voice and you know the show inside out, and after so many times correcting Octavian's lines I'm pretty sure you've got the part half memorised, at least. You know all the songs and all the dances and Hazel doesn't look like she wants to throw up every time she's around you!"

Percy glances around. "Are you—sure?"

Annabeth wants to throttle him. " _Sure_? Percy, are you _hearing_ what I'm saying, without you we have no show, we _need_ you if we don't want several months of hard work and me developing actual alopecia from stress to go to complete waste."

"I think you're the one in need of a Valium," Thalia says. "Bloody hell, Chase."

Percy still looks uncertain, so Annabeth seizes his hands. "You've got to do it," she pleads. "Come on, Percy, for me. We've put so much into this, and it's our senior year. We can't close down the play a week before we're going to run it."

Percy looks at her, and then over her shoulder at everyone else. When he looks back at her, he has a determined look on his face. "Okay," he says. "I'll do it."

Thalia cheers, Jason fist-bumps him and Annabeth breathes a sigh of relief so deeply she feels it in every inch of her body.

"Thank you," she says, squeezing his hands. " _Thank you_."

"We've put so much into this," Percy says. "I'm not going to let you down now. You deserve a perfect show."

He looks so earnest. She stares at him, at his pretty green eyes and the scar on his chin and the way he's tightly gripping her hands, and she thinks, _I love you_. She nearly says it out loud.

Instead, she just swallows and says, "thank you." She turns to the rest of them. "Ladies and gentlemen - Mission Into The Woods is officially a go."

•

"Where are my socks?"

"Has anyone got any spare bobby pins?"

"My costume's not on the hanger!"

"Annabeth, I need help!"

"One second," Annabeth manages through gritted teeth, still hurriedly brushing Evil Stepsister 1's hair into bunches. She feels something get tossed through the hair over her head but she ignores it, and just drops the hairbrush into her lap so she can secure the pigtail in place with as many elastic bands as she can afford because this hairstyle better not be moving anywhere. "Does that feel secure?"

The girl nods.

"Good, okay. Get on your costume and see if you can find Rachel, she'll do your makeup – Drew, for God's sake, take that off, you're an ugly sister, why are you wearing _a full face of makeup_ —"

"Annabeth!" someone shrieks.

"Oh my God," Annabeth mutters. "I'm going to have an aneurysm."

Hazel appears next to her. "Do you need any help?" Out of everyone, her costume's probably the simplest, just a plain dress and apron, so she's already fully dressed, and not for the first time Annabeth sends praises to the sky for her existence.

"Yes, please," Annabeth says gratefully. "If you can just finish up doing everyone's hair, and also find wherever the hell Leo has disappeared to that would be awesome."

Hazel squeezes her shoulder. "I'll do it," she promises, and then she's off.

Annabeth sighs. Good _grief_. If she had thought rehearsals were manic, she clearly hadn't considered how hectic a fifty-person cast would be on opening night.

"Annabeth!" Piper calls. "Can I have some help over here?"

Annabeth immediately sets off and pushes past the curtain someone's strung up so everyone can get changed. There are a few girls roaming around in just their underwear, and some are half in costume, half in regular clothes, doing their makeup in their small compact mirrors and the reflections of the window. Piper is standing in just a pair of jeans and a bra, her dress in one hand and her mic pack secured around her waist.

"Why would you give this dress a corset, Annie," is the first thing Piper says. "Why. _Why_. It doesn't matter that I'm going to have to do a costume change all by myself or that I have to do it blimming fast, but now I have to wear a corset. _Annabeth_."

"I'm sorry," Annabeth says. "It has to look traditional!"

"What happened to Velcro?"

Annabeth just rolls her eyes. "Come on, arms up, we need to do this quick."

"Maybe you should have thought about before you put a corset on my dress—"

"Piper, _up_."

Grumbling, Piper lifts her arms up, and Annabeth pulls the dress down over her head. The bodice is almost falling completely open, but the skirt is hanging how it should. Annabeth adjusts the waistband, tugging it a little so it hides the mic pack, and then reassuringly pats her bottom. "There," she says. "Okay, turn around, I'll do the laces for you."

"How am I meant to get this off by myself?" Piper grouches.

"I'll sneak out after the prologue and do it," Annabeth says. "Come on, turn around, we don't have much time."

Obediently, Piper turns around, and Annabeth starts lacing the corset as quickly as she can, mind somewhere else. Her head is whirring with everything she has to do – the cast aren't babies, she's sure they can look after themselves costume-wise – but she needs to do a quick overview to check that everyone is in the right clothes and their makeup is appropriate (she swears, if she sees Drew move towards her makeup bag again she's going to burn it, _what about ugly stepsister does she not understand_ ) and she was hoping they would also get to do a full run-through but with all this palaver that's happening since they brought out the costumes she doubts that's going to end up happening because apparently a bunch of mature high-schooler lose their minds at the prospect of wearing new clothes.

When she's finished securing Piper into her dress, she squeezes her shoulder. "All right, you're done," she says, and Piper turns towards her. "What are you going to do with your hair?"

"Wear it down?"

"Yeah, that sounds good." Annabeth arranges a few pieces at the side of her face. "I'll have a straightener here so when you come here for your costume change into Cinderella The Beautiful as opposed to Cinderella The Ugly I can just fix it up. Sounds good?"

"Sounds great," Piper says. She takes her hand. "You're doing a good job here, Annie."

Annabeth smiles gratefully. "Thanks. I'm just—I'm going slightly mad, is all."

"Do you need any help with anything? I'm quite good at shouting."

She huffs out a laugh. "Don't worry, I'm equipped for that." She pats her belt, where her megaphone is dangling, and then flicks the whistle around her neck. "I haven't used this yet, so I'm hoping the element of surprise will shut them up."

"Good tactic."

"You must always be prepared for war. But you can actually help – maybe just tell everyone to hurry up? I was hoping to get a quick run-through done before we actually perform it."

"Can do," Piper says. "Anything else? Can I get you a coffee?"

"Oh, you angel, that would be lovely." Annabeth smooths Piper's hair down on one side. "You look beautiful."

"I'd better, I'm not wearing this corset to look ugly. Think Jason'll dig it?"

"You are _not_ using the costume for seduction."

"Jason looks sexy in that Prince get up, is all I can say. Agony is my favourite three minutes of the entire show."

"That's because he rips open his shirt."

Piper wiggles her eyebrows. "I don't hear you complaining."

"Yeah, well, I've got my sights set on someone else."

"I know." Piper smiles, and this time it's warmer. "Planning on doing anything about it?"

"Wait—you know?"

"About your crush on Percy? Of course I know."

Annabeth sighs. "How obvious am I?"

"Extremely." Piper squeezes her hand. "You gonna tell him?"

"I... I don't know." She hesitates. "I—I don't think he likes me like that."

Piper rolls her eyes. "Just trust me, okay? Tell him."

"But—"

"What's the worst that can happen?"

 _He doesn't feel the same. Our friendship gets ruined. He thinks I'm creepy and we never speak every again._

Annabeth shrugs. "I just—don't want to lose him."

Piper's smile is soft. "Somehow," she says, "I doubt that'll happen."

Annabeth manages a weak smile.

Piper smiles back, and then stretches, cracking her spine and making Annabeth wince. "Okay, well, I'm off to get coffee and terrorise some underclassmen. You coming or are you going to keep roaming the corridor like a lost ghost?"

"I just need to check everyone's costumes," she says. "See you later, yeah?"

"See you."

The conversation spins around Annabeth's head long after Piper disappears. It just settles over her, like a sticky black fog, as she ducks backstage, double checking everyone's got their props in the right places. What does that even _mean_? How would Piper know? And in what universe would Percy actually like her back?

She means—she's just Annabeth. She's too bossy and a bit of a control freak and doesn't know how to be nice to people and the only way she can control a group of kids is by yelling abuse at them through a megaphone. She's not exactly a catch. And Percy—well, he's _consummate_. He's nice to people and apparently great in bed and he bakes cookies and plays with kittens in pet shops and on a stage he _shines_. He's always been the brightest star Annabeth's known, from the way he moves to the way he is, and him playing the lead tonight is only going to let everyone else know how unstoppable he is.

She knows she needs to stop pretending. Who is she kidding? Percy likes someone else, and even if he didn't they're just friends. There is no universe where they could be together, no matter what Piper or Mr Brunner says, and she needs to understand that.

She nods at her reflection of the window. "Come on, girl," she tells herself. "This is your big night. Hold your head high. You are worth more than some dumb boy's feelings towards you."

"Stop talking to yourself," Thalia says, splodging black face paint on her cheeks. "You and Percy are doing some dumb dance around each other. We get it. You don't actually have to monologue."

Annabeth glares at her. "Could you not?"

"Not really." Thalia smudges the paint into her face with her hands. "Speaking of – is tonight the night?"

"What night?"

"The night you stop pathetically mooning over each other and tell him how you feel?"

"What— _no_!"

Thalia sighs. "Seriously?"

"How do you know about this too?"

"Chase, everyone knows about it. There's literally a betting pool."

Annabeth blinks. "A—betting pool."

"Yep. I put in fifty bucks for one of you confessing at the end of a performance, which means tonight, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday night, so if you're not going to do it tonight please wait until after the show. I'd get about a thousand bucks."

Annabeth can't believe it. "A thousand bucks?"

"Everyone's got money in." Thalia looks a little smug. "Leo thinks you won't do it until next week, after Into The Woods has finished completely."

"Why?"

"He said something about this show bringing you together and without it you can't go on your cute Saturday dates anymore, so you'll realise how much you miss each other and confess. Which is logically probably the smartest choice but I'm banking on the pure sexual attraction between you two and the fact that by the end of it all Percy's gonna be all hot and sweaty so you can't let me down here, Chase."

Annabeth is utterly dumbfounded. "But— _what_?"

"What what?"

"But Percy doesn't like me like that."

Thalia bursts out laughing, and then when Annabeth's expression doesn't change, she stops. "Oh, you're serious."

"What?"

"Come on, Chase." Thalia puts the sponge down. "I thought you were supposed to be smart."

Annabeth is hurt. "What's that supposed to mean? I _am_ smart! I'm smarter than you!"

Thalia just shakes her head. "Whatever," she says. "Well, all I can say is come to your senses soon, okay? I've got a lot of money riding on you."

Annabeth frowns. "What does—"

"Uh, guys?" Leo pops his head around the curtain, hand over his eyes. "Are you naked?"

"Yes," Thalia deadpans.

"Have you put bets on me and Percy?" Annabeth asks him.

Leo drops his hand. He looks horrified. "What? No?"

"Ignore her," Thalia says, applying mascara. "What do you want?"

"Uh. Everyone onstage. Piper's doing a group circle. Apparently she has a speech."

"I can't believe you went behind my back and betted on me and Percy," Annabeth says to him. "He doesn't even like me like that, are you _trying_ to embarrass me?"

Leo frowns. "What?" He looks at Thalia. "Is she—"

"Oh, completely," Thalia says, capping her mascara and fluttering her eyelashes in the mirror. "Don't worry, my bet still stands firm. There's only so much soppy staring they can do before one of them clocks."

"Fair enough," Leo says. "You guys coming?"

Annabeth closes her compact mirror and shoves it in her pocket, and then points threateningly at him. "You're all dead to me," she says. "Just for the fact the entire cast has been going behind my back I'm not going to confess at all and you lose all your money, so how's that."

"That's cool," Thalia says. "I didn't even bet on you, anyway, I bet on Percy. He's definitely going to confess tonight."

"Stop _saying_ that!"

Thalia shoves her mascara in her makeup bag, and then stands and claps Annabeth on the shoulder. "Bethie," she says, "very rarely am I ever so certain on something, okay? But trust me on this: we wouldn't mess around with you like this if we didn't believe it, too."

Annabeth looks at her for a very long time. Thalia's always been a bit of a loose cannon – she just kind of rocks up wherever and whenever she pleases, usually stoned, and does dumb things like smoke cigarettes and rides bicycles whilst drunk and rolls joints behind the bike shed. But sometimes, she can be as sharp as an arrow. And when Annabeth looks into her eyes, lined in flecks of mascara, she knows that she's as clear-minded as ever.

Finally, she lets out a sigh. "Okay," she says. "You're all wrong, but—okay."

"That was kind of adorable," Leo says.

"Walk away, little man," Thalia says.

"Walking away."

They all head to the auditorium. It's almost a shock to the system to walk in and see everyone in costume in a circle onstage, but it makes Annabeth's heart swell at least three sizes. Everyone is seated except for Piper, who is pacing up and down with her hand pressed to her sternum like it hurts. Her head snaps up when she hears them come in.

"Ugh, finally," she says. "Come on, I was about to make a sappy speech."

"Why are you moving like that?" Leo asks.

"I can't breathe, like, at all. Sitting down causes me to momentarily black out. Corsets are actually the worse."

Thalia, in nothing more than a glorified potato sack, smirks.

They all clamber onstage. "Is this everyone?" Annabeth asks.

"Uh, I think so," Piper says. She squints. "Is Percy here?"

Everyone shakes their heads.

"Damn," Piper says. "He's always got to steal my thunder."

"I'll go find him," Annabeth says. "You start your speech."

"You sure you don't want to be here to hear it? It's a tear-jerker."

"I'm sure," Annabeth says. "We'll rock up fashionably late."

"No detours," Thalia says, and Leo sniggers.

Annabeth just gives them the middle finger and walks out.

She tries to think where Percy would be. She hasn't seen him for a while, actually – not since she arrived back at school at five. She glances up and down the empty hallways. No matter how many Saturdays she's spent here, skidding through deserted classrooms and being able to shout down the stairwells without getting yelled at, she'll never get used to seeing the school so empty.

She ducks into all the classrooms, trying to see where Percy is. It's maybe ten minutes later that she finds him in the bathroom.

"Hey," she says. "Why aren't you in the hall? I've been looking for you everywhere. We're just doing one final run through before doors open."

Percy cracks a smile. "You realise these are the boys' toilets, right?"

"I couldn't find you."

"I'm just psyching myself up."

She snorts. "And how well's that going?"

"Quite good, actually." Percy grins. "Every time I look in the mirror I get reminded that I'm not Octavian Spencer and just that alone is quite self-esteem boosting."

Annabeth rolls her eyes. "Hilarious."

"I know."

"Your collar's crooked, too, by the way."

It's not an invitation, but Percy moves towards her like it is. Her hands go to fix his shirt, smoothing out the creases down around his collarbones. When she looks up, he's staring at her with something indistinguishable but so fiercely affectionate that she feels the lump return back to her throat.

"There," she says, throat thick. "You're done."

"Thanks, Beth," Percy says. He glances at himself in the mirror. "Nice job on the costume, by the way. It looks great."

Annabeth blurts, "Well, the costume can't take all the credit" and then immediately wants to kick herself in the face so she quickly adds, "but thanks, it was a team effort."

Percy smirks. "You think I'm good-looking?"

"I never said that."

"You implied it."

"I was lying," Annabeth says sulkily. "The costume takes all the credit."

He laughs. When he laughs he throws back his head and his eyes crinkle and his nose scrunches up and Annabeth wants to punch herself because he's been here all along, why couldn't she have noticed earlier?

 _You're too late_ , a voice in the back of her head hisses. _You had the chance and you missed it._

Annabeth ignores it. "We've got to get back to the auditorium," she says. "Come on."

•

At first, Annabeth hadn't understood what Thalia meant.

It's just, the very idea of confessing her feelings after the show makes no sense. Like, why afterwards? That's just unnecessary. Wouldn't it be more practical beforehand? Or maybe just after the whole week is done so it doesn't have to interfere with their working relationship? It's good to consider all angles and it's clear that Thalia hadn't.

Except—

Seeing Percy onstage tonight? She gets it.

He's so brilliant up there. Annabeth can only watch in awe. He's always been beautiful – even before Annabeth realised she liked him she could always appreciate how good-looking he was – but there's something about just seeing him up on that stage, singing all the songs they've worked so hard to perfect together, that does it for her. He never shines as brightly as he does when he's onstage. Everything about him is suddenly bigger, brighter, more charming. He's barely Percy up there. He's spectacular and explosive and Annabeth is spell-bound.

She's loved him through everything. She's loved him through cat cardigans and Drew Tanaka and visits to Starbucks but she doesn't think she's ever loved him quite as much as she does now.

"Are you all right, Miss Chase?" Mr Brunner asks during the interval. "You look very overwhelmed."

"I'm going to do it," she says. "After the show. I'm going to tell him."

Mr Brunner smiles. "I'm proud of you. That takes a lot of courage."

The second half happens, but Annabeth barely pays any attention. Now that she's said it, it's going to happen. She's going to tell Percy how she feels and that's that and _God_ , how does she say it without sounding like a total idiot?

 _Percy, I love you_. Too forward.

 _Percy, I've been in love with you for years_. That's weird.

 _Percy, I want to spend the rest of my life with_ —NO.

She inhales. Exhales.

 _If you try, you might just surprise yourself._

 _Somehow, I doubt that._

 _We wouldn't mess around with you like this if we didn't believe it, too._

She sets her shoulders back. Onstage, Percy and Piper sing No One Is Alone. She can do this.

She can do this.

The show ends, and the entire cast hold hands at the end of the stage and bow. Percy beckons Annabeth onstage and Apollo the hipster music teacher who's been wiping tears since the show started pushes her forward, and laughing she allows herself to be pulled on. Percy tucks an arm around her waist and Hazel presents her with a bouquet of flowers and she thinks she might be wiping away tears, too.

"You did it," Percy breathes into her ear.

"It was all you."

He snorts. "Don't be stupid."

They bow again, Annabeth, too, and everyone cheers. She smiles so wide she thinks her cheeks might split open.

Backstage, Piper invites them all behind the curtain and everyone who's willing does a shot and ravishes a packet of biscuits. Everyone still shivery and vibrating from the high of performing, and no one stops shouting for even a second, but Annabeth is so happy she doesn't even complain. She just stands with the flowers in the crook of her arm, giving so many people hugs she doesn't even want to think about the possibility of headlice, and accepts everyone's congratulations.

She spots Percy across the room, talking to Jason and laughing, and squares her shoulders. However, just before she can go up to him, Piper slings an arm around her shoulders and shouts, "Give it up for Annabeth Chase, everybody!"

Everyone cheers and she laughs, tucking her head into Piper's shoulder. She smells of hairspray and sweat and Annabeth can't help but squeeze her. Piper hugs her back.

"How you feeling, girlie?" she asks.

Annabeth nods. "I'm—I'm really good."

Piper nods in Percy's direction. "You told him yet?"

Annabeth opens her mouth to say no, not yet – when suddenly, she stops.

She hasn't, yet. But it's all about going out with a bang.

Without answering Piper, she turns to the rest of the kids and shouts, "Can I say something real quick?"

No one hears her. They're still all too busy giggling and shrieking and trying to get over the high of performing to an audience that it's almost as if she hasn't even spoken.

She tries again. "Guys?"

Still no answer.

Time to get out the big guns. Digging around in the neck of her blouse, she pulls out her whistle, and blows into it as hard as possible.

The room falls silent.

"Thank you," Annabeth says.

"Did you just blow a whistle at us?" Leo asks.

"Yes," Annabeth says, smartly tucking it back into her pocket. "I wanted to say something."

Thalia shouts, "Speech, speech!"

"No," Annabeth says. She raises her glass. "I actually wanted to make a toast to someone. Percy."

"Me?" Percy says.

"It's happening," she hears Thalia hiss. "Pay up, bitches."

Annabeth ignores her. "Percy," she says, "when Octavian quit and it seemed like all hope was lost, you stepped in and basically saved our butts, mine especially. Everyone's been congratulating me all night for doing such a great job on this show but frankly I couldn't have done it without you, and if you hadn't stepped in we wouldn't have had a show, really." She pauses. "You have done—so much for this show, and for me. And I want to say thank you." She raises her glass. "To Percy!"

"To Percy!" everyone shouts.

"Ha," Leo whispers. "She didn't!"

"I still have the rest of the week," Thalia hisses. "Just you wait, it's gonna happen."

Percy approaches her. "You didn't have to do that," he says.

"Yes, I did," Annabeth says. "Turns out, you kind of are my guardian angel. Thank you so much for everything you've done. I couldn't have done any of this without you."

"Don't speak too soon – we've still got three more shows to go."

"Yeah," Annabeth says, "but show number 1 went pretty well, and I think that's what matters."

"I'll toast you to that," Percy says, and they clink cups.

Together, they watch as everyone else jumps around each other. It's a pleasant buzz. Annabeth only had one shot, but she's never been good at holding her alcohol – everything's still a little hazy, and glowing in that way that means she's not quite drunk but she nearly is. It's a lovely atmosphere, though. Like, yeah, it smells, and everyone's costumes are going to reek tomorrow, but being in a room full of so much joy makes her happier than anything else.

"You know," Percy says, breaking her out of her reverie, "you used your whistle for the first time."

Annabeth gives him a sideways look. "I did. And no one laughed."

"Arguably because they were shocked."

"That wasn't part of the terms and conditions of our deal."

"Yeah, yeah." Percy sips his drink. "What was the consolation prize, again?"

"If I win, you take me out and pay."

Percy smirks. "Is that so."

"I'm not doing anything," Annabeth says, heart pounding. "You're the one that lost, after all."

"Okay, then." Percy sets his cup down on the side of the table and takes her hands, looking her straight in the eyes. "Annabeth Chase. Would you like to go to Pat's again on Saturday for a full, all-expenses-paid lunch of pancakes?"

"Why, Percy Jackson, are you asking me out on a date?"

"So what if I am?"

Oh my God. Oh my God.

"Then I might just have to accept," Annabeth says.

"Good," Percy says.

"Good."

"What time should I pick you up?"

"Huh?"

"What time? It's a true date, after all."

Her head is spinning. "I—you don't have to take it that far."

Percy frowns. "What?"

"I mean—this is a joke, right. Like, we're not actually going on a date."

"We're not?"

"What? Percy, you like someone else!"

" _What_?"

Annabeth can't believe this. "Annabelle! The girl you met at the mall? You like her, don't you?"

Percy stares at her.

Annabeth can't look him in the eyes. "Look, I get this being—a game, but you can't take it this far, it's not fair—"

"Annabeth, Annabelle isn't real."

She stops. "What?"

"Are you serious? You genuinely fell for that?"

"Fell for what? What's going on?

"Annabelle's _you_."

Annabeth feels like she's just been struck over the head. "Excuse me?"

"You actually thought I liked a girl called Annabelle? _Annabelle_?"

"I don't know!"

"I liked you! And when you asked who I panicked."

"Why didn't you just tell me?"

"I thought you didn't like me."

Annabeth actually laughs. "You're kidding."

"You—sounded so hopeful about me and Drew getting together. I thought you were just being a really supportive friend."

Oh my God. "I hated you and Drew being together, what the hell."

Percy throws his head back and laughs.

"This is so stupid," Annabeth says. "We're so stupid."

"I tried to tell you so many times," Percy says. "I just kept getting interrupted."

"I'm actually going to cry. This is ridiculous."

Percy laughs, and then takes her hands again. "So... is that a yes for the date?"

"That's absolutely a yes for the date," Annabeth says, "and possibly any and all future dates."

"Good to know."

They both stare at each other for a few moments, just taking it all in. Annabeth feels completely winded, and she blames it entirely on the madness of the situation and the alcohol in her system when she says, "Can I kiss you?"

Percy grins. "Really?"

"Totally. Unless you don't want to, in which case I mean—I meant that hypothetically, you know, because friendship—"

"Annabeth?"

"Yeah?"

"Stop talking."

"Will do."

Percy takes her face in his hands. "Annabeth," he says. "I'm going to kiss you now, if that's okay."

"That's more than oka— _mmph_."

(It really is more than okay. Annabeth loves Percy, who loves her back. Life has really never been better.)

* * *

 **A/N thank you all so much for reading! i want to extend like a humungous thank you to rachel (TheWritingManiac) who literally dragged me over the finish line for this one - my dear you gave me the motivation to finish this and for that i am so very grateful. amen to us. we are actual superheroes.**

 **(speaking of she ALSO wrote a fabulous b99!percabeth au fic for helena you must read it it is so good)**

 **please tell me what you thought and make sure to go over to helena's stories (GollyGeeWhiz) and read them all and wish her a belated happy birthday xx**


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